TRIGUN: GunGrave
by ShadowHawk
Summary: Gun Grave, the 14th Gung Ho Gun is in search of Vash the Stampede and his past. The final chapter is up and running, Please Read & Review it.
1. Default Chapter

TRIGUN: GunGrave  
  
By ShadowHawk & Turles  
  
Disclaimer: We do not own the copyrights to Trigun, or any other copyrighted information. All Copyrights belong to their respective owners.  
  
Chapter 1: The Stranger in the Desert  
  
Under the blistering heat of the twin suns over the desert planet Gunsmoke, the remnants of humanity lived, it was also here that lived one of the most notorious gunslingers that ever lived. A man who had single handedly reduced a city of over 1 million people to rubble, the 60-billion double dollar man, the humanoid typhoon; Vash the Stampede.  
  
In the small city of Little Jersey on its outskirts to the desert, a lone man was walking toward it. He was enormous standing at a high 6 foot 2 inches that sent his shadow long into the city with the suns beginning to set behind him. His shadow grew wider from his broad shoulders and was thin towards his feet from his long tailed coat. He looked to the city of Little Jersey from under his peaked hat with folded brims. His one good eye saw the entire city while his cyborg eye enhanced his vision of the town. Upon this man's back was a coffin that was too small for him but looked more like the size of a small man between 4 and 5 feet.  
  
He entered the city and headed for the Saloon. In small towns like this most of the main business is on the main street that runs trough it. The Saloon was clearly marked with the painted letters in its windows and the swinging board that hung outside with the same word written upon it.  
  
From the streets the stranger heard the music being played inside the saloon. It was an old fashioned tune that the people knew how it went but no one knew its name. The sounds that emanated from behind the batwing doors was uproarious and happy with the people inside dancing, drinking and possibly playing poker.  
  
The stranger stopped in the middle of the street with the brief gust of wind blowing by the sand at his feet. His cyborg eye fixed on the saloon's batwing doors. He turned and walked up to them. Both his hands reached up to part the batwing doors like the Red Sea as he crossed the threshold into the Saloon. He set his feet inside the saloon, the batwing doors closed behind him and all sound stopped. The deafening silence that came over the room was absolutely chilling. No one was dancing, talking, laughing or playing poker. Even the old fashioned tune that was played at the piano had stopped. All eyes in the room were on the stranger who came in. He looked like death dressed as a cowboy. He stunk of dirt, sand and even the faint coppery smell that only belonged to blood.  
  
The stranger took a few steps to the bar at this left while the music, dancing, laughing and poker playing continued. Disconnecting the coffin from the chains that held it from both of his arms, the stranger then set the coffin upon the barstools next to him like it was his beloved.  
  
The only person who was calm the moment the stranger walked in was the bartender. He was as cool as a cucumber as was cleaning the glasses. He cleaned the glasses by the conditioning that he had from being in this job for so long. That much was obvious by the gray hairs around his ears and by the first question he asked the stranger.  
  
"What'll it be?" He asked putting away his newly cleaned glass.  
  
From under the folded brimmed hat the stranger spoke. His lips moved as if he was whispering but the bartender heard his voice so clearly it was as if the room was quiet.  
  
"A glass of whiskey." The stranger said  
  
The bartender poured the drink, while the stranger took the glass, brought it to his lips and gulped all of it as if it was water. The stranger brought back down his glass from his lips and the bartender refilled his drink. Except this time the stranger drunk more slowly and the bartender wanted to make small talk with him.  
  
"Are you an undertaker?" He asked from the coffin that was laid upon the barstools.  
  
The stranger said nothing, he didn't nod, nor did he look up at the bartender from under his hat. There was only a moment of silence from him until he reached into his coat. At first instinct the bartender thought the stranger was going to pull a gun. Then he saw no such shape as the stranger brought out his hand. He watched as the strangers' hand came into close view and the strangers' hand opened.  
  
In the palm of his hand was an old crumpled up black and white photograph. The photograph was already showing its signs of age with its edges torn and frayed while it had creases zigzagging all over it. The picture itself was of two children, one girl and one boy looking as happy as they could possibly be.  
  
The stranger spoke, "Do you know this girl?"  
  
The bartender looked at the picture and had an internal bewilderment. How could a man like this who looks like an undertaker cowboy carry a picture so innocent? The bartender finally gave his answer.  
  
"Can't say that I have." He said  
  
The stranger took the picture and placed it back in his coat. He took the half-empty glass of whiskey and gulped the rest of it down. He then picked up the coffin and connected to his chained arms and walked out of the saloon.  
  
But before the stranger left, he reached into his pocket again and took out a coin, without turning to look back at the bar he flipped the coin up into the air. The bartender watched the coin as it came down in slow motion down into the glass that the stranger drank out of. He saw that the coin was a rare five double dollar coin. He took it out and put it back into his pocket and looked back to the batwing doors to find the stranger was gone.  
  
As he was gone, one of the frequent visitors to the bar came up to the bartender.  
  
"Hey, Anel Johnson." He called, "why were you talking to yourself?"  
  
The bartender, Anel Johnson, looked at the barfly confused, "What do you mean, didn't you hear him talk?"  
  
"No, I didn't."  
  
"That's funny. I heard him clear as a bell."  
  
Outside of the saloon the stranger walked the streets until he found a hotel. He walked and found the innkeeper sitting behind his desk with the register book in front of him and the wall of keys behind him. The stranger came up to the desk and moved his lips again while the innkeeper heard his voice.  
  
"I'd like a room." He said  
  
The innkeeper didn't take a second glance at the stranger. He had seen quite a lot of strange characters come to stay at his hotel. So, who was he to judge anyone?  
  
"That'll be 30 double dollars a night. Just sign your name here." The innkeeper turned the register around and handed a pen over to the stranger. He turned to get the nearest key off of the wall while the stranger signed his name. The innkeeper turned back around to give the stranger his key while he took back the pen and register to see his name. It was a very strange name written in a very sloppy and jagged script:  
  
Gun Grave  
  
"Your room is number 07." The innkeeper said  
  
The whole time that the innkeeper spoke to Gun Grave he never saw his face nor his eyes, just his lips while the rest of his face was covered by his broad-brimmed hat, then he saw the stranger reach into his pocket and pull out what looked like paper. Then he made the connection that it was money. The stranger, Gun Grave, handed the money over to the innkeeper who then found out that he gave him a 100 double dollar bill.  
  
"Keep the change." Gun Grave said  
  
The innkeeper smiled with glee since this job never paid that much in the first place. Not only that but with the kind of life he has had he never saw an actually 100 double dollar bill in his life. It was one of those moments in life when one can feel as if their luck might be changing for the better.  
  
"If you need anything." The innkeeper offered, "Anything at all, just let me know."  
  
The stranger said nothing, he simply went to his room leaving the innkeeper to gaze in amazement at the 100 double dollar as if it was the rarest stone in the world.  
  
Away from the clerk who ogled his 100 double dollar bill, Gun Grave went to his room number 07 was up on the second level of the inn. The room was nothing special to Gun Grave, it was simply a desk, chest of drawers, a closet and a bed. That was all he needed, he reached for the chains that held his coffin and pulled it off his back and placed it upon the low set chest of drawers. Taking off his hat he found a mirror above the low set chest of drawers. He couldn't help but look back at himself and into that scarred part of his face. The part that used to have an eye long ago but not all that remained was a scar that ran down the left side of his face and the bionic eye that was set in his face.  
  
A light tap came at the door.  
  
Gun Grave stayed silent as he looked to the door seeing the shadow through the bottom crack under the door and knew that someone was there. For a moment he thought of who it could be and if it could be anyone out to kill him. He opened up his coffin quickly and quietly within the coffin was velvet padding like that of a box containing some precious jewel. Yet, instead of gold rings, necklaces or bracelets there were guns. Twin gun seated within the velvet padding of the coffin. The guns were custom made for Gun Grave. The two looked almost like the gun that belonged to Vash the Stampede except for one feature. Running along down the side of both guns, one was a red cross and the other was a silver cross. One beam of it ran along the gun as if it was traveling with the bullet while the other one crossed the other right over the trigger. These were called the Cerberus, named after the three-headed dog of Greek Mythology. Yet there were only two guns, the third one was a surprise that Gun Grave always had for his enemies.  
  
He brought out one of the Cerberus to the door and stayed silent as it opened. He didn't have the gun pointing at the door but rather had it at his side waiting to use it. The door opened and in walked a girl. Not just any ordinary girl this one was dressed in black leather like some kind of Gothic Countess. Her hair long, blonde and so sleek that reflected the light coming in from the hall and within Gun Grave little room.  
  
"Hi." She said very seductively as she tapped her whip against her left hand, "I'm Christina."  
  
Gun Grave saw the whole meaning behind this situation. The innkeeper being so surprised by the "generosity" of this gunslinger named Gun Grave that he sent a hooker to his room. In the dim light of his room he looked at the hooker from head to toe and thought about the possibilities he could have with her.  
  
"Hello there." Gun Grave said, this time he didn't move his lips as he placed his gun back into his coffin. He took off his wide shouldered jacket to reveal a slightly less built body that he had underneath it all. He walked over to Christina, led her in and closed the door.  
  
"Alright, before we get to it," Christina stated, "I have to lay down certain things I don't do. I don't do it through the backdoor you got me."  
  
All of this "laying down the rules" annoyed Gun Grave. He looked at Christina in the eyes as she was going on about what she won't do. Her eyes suddenly locked into his even his bionic eye and that scar down the left side of his face. She was transfixed, she found him beautifully handsome. She dropped all the things that she wouldn't do just because she was locked into Gun Grave's sights.  
  
Gun Grave wrapped his arms around Christina and kissed her longingly as he turned off all the lights with his mind.  
  
That night Christina had felt sex like she hadn't known ever since she started this business so long ago. But certainly for the very last time.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning Gun Grave was still awake, he had the curtains drawn so that no light came into his room except for the little bit of light that could be seen on the floor from the drawn curtains. With the super vision that he had in his left bionic eye he could still see the sleeping body of his hooker, Christina. Now was the time to act, he went to his coffin and quietly opened it seeing his twin guns. He went to a small flap below them that was secured with a small snap. He unclamped the snap and pulled up the flap. Under the flap was a small compartment where Gun Grave stored his most prized object for his life. The very thing that allowed him to survive, though it was an odd device since it was shaped something like an egg with small hoses attached to it.  
  
In the darkness of his room with the early morning light coming in from under the curtains Gun Grave took the egg over to where Christina lay. He reached over to touch her neck she had no more pulse. He took one last look at her lying on the bed that had all its covers pulled off, she was sprawled out and naked with the whip she had last night wrapped around her neck.  
  
Gun Grave knelt down and took her arm setting the egg on the bed. He took one of the strings attached to it and looked at it as it developed teeth like a lamprey or a leech ready to suck. He took the hose and placed it on the arm of Christina he watched as the hose took a life of its own and sank its teeth into the arm. Yet as its teeth sank into Christina's flesh she didn't flinch as she lay still with her eyes open. Gun Grave kept his eyes upon the egg that began to flash lights of, blue, green, red, and amber like LED's. He took the other hose and placed it onto his chest, he looked at his body, as he was topless only wearing his pants. He looked down at the bullet wounds in his chest scattered like raindrops. He felt only a small prick as the hose sank its teeth into his chest. Knowing that the connection was there he reached over to the egg and squeezed it. The egg made a very low hum as the LED's began to flash faster and faster. Gun Grave felt the liquid coming from Christina entered his body. With each drop of her precious bodily fluids he felt stronger and stronger with each passing minute. It was like eating a great dinner after only surviving on rations.  
  
After several minutes of ecstasy of sucking out the fluids of Christina, Gun Grave felt that he could gain no more out of her. So he reached over and gave the egg another small squeeze and all the lights died out. He pulled off the hose from Christina's arm as well as from his own chest. He couldn't help but see the face that Christina had; he leaned over and kissed her on her cheek.  
  
"Thank you." He said as he took the egg back to the coffin. He placed it back into its compartment and brought down its flap. The whole time he felt stronger and lighter on his feet as he got dressed and ready to leave the hotel. He finally got on his folded brimmed hat and pulled back his shoulder length black hair. He left the room as casually as if nothing had happened last night. He walked down to the lobby in the same casual way that he had walked into town the day before. He walked passed the innkeeper on his way out the door to the dusty streets of Little Jersey, passing it he heard the conversations going on in the lounge.  
  
"Did you hear?" One man asked, "I heard Vash the Stampede is in a small village a few isles from L and R Town."  
  
"Vash the Stampede?" Another man asked, "You're not going to try and get that 60 Billion Double Dollar reward are you?"  
  
"Hell no, I ain't going after Vash, no way in Hell."  
  
Then the voice of the Innkeeper reached Gun Grave ears, "Hey stranger" He called. "How did you like, Christina?"  
  
Gun Grave turned to the innkeeper and gave a very disturbing and cryptic smile, "She was most satisfactory." He moved his lips while speaking with his mind.  
  
"Where is she anyway?" The Innkeeper kept looking up the stairs to see if the little hooker would come back down or (from the noises he heard last night) she might be bedridden.  
  
"She's in my room," He said as he tossed the key back on the innkeepers' desk, "She wanted to sleep in."  
  
The Innkeeper winked as he took the key back and left the desk. Gun Grave on the other hand went about his original course back to the streets. He felt the blistering head coming down from the twin suns as he set his course carrying his coffin on his back. The information that he heard in the lobby was something that he took great interest in. Vash the Stampede was in a village outside L and R town. The wonderful thing about having a bionic eye is that it can also act like a navigation computer. He looked through his eye seeing the streets, the buildings and the people that walked them. From his eye he looked in which direction L and R town is located all it took was a turn of his head and he found its direction and headed that very way.  
  
He headed that way following the directions given to him in his bionic eye ignoring everyone that passed as well as gawked at him.  
  
"AAAAHHH!" A scream came from behind him.  
  
He didn't know what the scream was about but he could take a wild guess and that was the reason why he kept walking and never turned around.  
  
"There's a murder!" A man screamed, "a woman died in my hotel! It was in his room!"  
  
From under his broad brimmed hat Gun Grave could see the people staring at him. It wasn't the kind of stare where people were looking at him because he was an odd character. This was a stare when they know something terrible has happened and who was responsible for it. The sort of collective connection everyone made that was similar to the mindless lynch mobs who knew who did it and what should be done. Except Gun Grave wasn't one to be underestimated like some common thief.  
  
"Hold it!" A voice shouted from behind him.  
  
Gun Grave stopped in his tracks.  
  
"Hands up." The voice said  
  
Gun Graves stuck his hands up  
  
"Stranger." The commanding voice said, "You're under arrest for first degree murder."  
  
Gun Grave spoke to the one standing behind him with his mind. He reached to his thoughts and said only one thing before acting.  
  
"Humans." He said, "foolish humans. You willingly walk into death don't you?"  
  
"What?" The commanding voice asked, "I'm hearing voices!"  
  
"You say I'm under arrest for first degree murder? You better add a few more counts to that. Bullet Time!"  
  
As Gun Grave thought of that singular phrase, Bullet Time, the world around him began to slow down as if it was a clock that was slowly winding down to a complete stand still. He began to move with lightning speed as the people around him were moving like thick molasses. He opened his coffin from a side compartment and out popped his twin guns, his Cerberus. They were out handle first like the coffin was a person handing the guns to him directly. He took the guns and took aim against his opponents.  
  
The first one he set his sights on was the person that was right behind him. In a split second he found out that it was the local sheriff who had a shotgun in his hands pointing it out, no doubt, formerly at Gun Grave back, but no more. Gun Grave took the first shot, he wanted his first kill to be special in this town. He fired his bullet straight at the sheriffs' rifle. In this slow motion that he was watching around him he watched his bullets fly out and hit the rifle. It exploded sending fragments of the shotgun and whatever ammunition it had in all directions. Gun Grave smiled as he watched the surprised and frightened look on the sheriffs face. He was only getting started, but he could only maintain this amount of speed with Bullet time for a short while. He allowed the bullet time to speed up just a tad but the people were still moving slow enough for him to strike.  
  
The next person he saw was a young man whose head had been completely shaved bald. He was looking at where Gun Grave stood with a very shocked expression on his face, like that of a sheltered boy who was now seeing a real woman naked for the first time.  
  
"Swing Coffin." Gun Grave spoke in his mind as he took hold of the coffin with his Cerberus in his hands and swung it at the young man. In slow motion Gun Grave watched the young man fly like a comic book super hero making a mistake trying to fly. It would only be a matter of time from Gun Grave points of view (or seconds from the towns' point of view) before that young man hits a building or lands on his ass.  
  
Through his Bionic eye, Gun Grave saw the great satellite that this small city owned. He holstered his guns into the coffin and set it up on his shoulder. Pressing a small button hidden in the articulate pattern in the underside of the coffin, a small target sight popped out of the coffin. It came out like the button of a click pen. He looked through it and saw the satellite.  
  
"Deathblow!" His mind shouted  
  
And from the front end of the coffin came a miniature missile that rocketed towards the station that held the satellite. Like everything else around him the explosion happened so slowly that it was like watching thick honey drip out of a jar.  
  
At last, Gun Grave was done playing around in Bullet time, he got himself out of it and watched all the destruction happening around him in real time. The people were shocked when he reappeared in the middle of the street. In all that time that Gun Grave had caused all that damage he was out of sight, no one saw where he was or what he was doing. Now he was standing in the middle of the streets of Little Jersey and everyone definitely knew that it was him that was doing all of this. The only thing that the people didn't know was the great move that Gun Grave was going to play.  
  
No one heard the command that he gave as he took out his Cerberus from the holsters in his coffin.  
  
"Bullet Dance!" He cried in his mind  
  
In mere instants he was dancing like mad in the middle of the street and sending bullets everywhere. It was like a twister or a hurricane of these deadly projectiles that were flying in each direction that he moved. All 360 degrees of motion that he moved the people around him dropped like puppets that had their strings cut. The people were lying in the streets dead but Gun Grave still continued to do his deadly dance in the street. Everyone who even looked at Gun Grave from afar wasn't safe from his barrage. By the time his dance was done, everyone in the main street of Little Jersey was dead or dying under the twin suns.  
  
Gun Grave holstered his weapons and looked to the satellite which also acted as a docking station for Sand Steamers. The great works of iron that moved across the sands of Gunsmoke and there near the satellite was the Sand Steamer waiting for its passengers to come aboard.  
  
"Bullet time." Gun Grave said and everything slowed down as he took his time getting to the Steamer. It wasn't anything spectacular, as a matter of fact it was already starting to show signs of age with its old metal becoming brown and crusted with sand. These iron giants were used for several things since they were so huge. They were used as cargo ships as well as cruise liners. Since Gun Grave didn't have a lot of money on him and he was in Bullet Time already he figured that he could swipe some money from the pockets of the people. Yet, he wasn't going to use his stolen money to buy a ticket, he was just going to stow away on it. He figured that he could do it because of his own powers. Going onto the ship he looked on the charts that the workers had and found out that they were going to several places; Little Oregon, Dankin town, Mei City, as well as L & R town.  
  
He saw the name L & R Town and he knew that this was the steamer to get on. Going through the decks he went along and found his way into one of the deluxe accommodations. The First Class places were very cushy compared to that cramped little room that he had back in Little Jersey. Plus those fluids he took from Christina were really making him feel good, they were like the greatest of drugs that anyone could make.  
  
He set his coffin next to the enormous round bed that had the nice windows and fell fast asleep allowing the fluids in his system to course through him.  
  
To be continue... 


	2. The Badlands

TRIGUN: GunGrave  
  
By ShadowHawk & Turles  
  
Disclaimer: We do not own the copyrights to Trigun, or any other copyrighted information. All Copyrights belong to their respective owners.  
  
Trigun: Gun Grave  
  
Chapter 2: The Badlands  
  
In the dead of the night as the Sand Steamer crossed the desert with the triple moons overhead they were passing an area that they took great caution in crossing. It was a place that many travelers have come into but never came back out of, a place where the wealthiest cargo are stripped away and taken into the night. This was the badlands, the worst of the worst places in the world to cross. The Bermuda Triangle, Devils Island, The Black Hole of Calcutta, none of these places were like those of the Badlands. There was nothing mysterious or supernatural about it, this was a dwelling of the worst thieves known, a group known as the Badland Thieves, and their leader shines brightly like a great star, a man who was known only as Brilliant Dynamites Neon.  
  
In the darkness of the night, the neon lights of the Badland Thieves began to glow like a field of fireflies. At the head of them like a king was the leader himself, Brilliant Dynamites Neon. A man dressed in a very white and tacky cliché cowboy outfit that was fitted with neon all over it. The man himself with the neon glowing all over him was like a Las Vegas sign flashing a casino's name. In his mouth he had a sparkler that he light with a blowtorch. He held it between his teeth like it was a cigarette.  
  
"It's time." He said smiling and showing off all his white teeth, "Is the Sand Steamer near?"  
  
One of the many underlings serving BDN (as he's sometimes called) looked towards the horizon through a set of powerful binoculars. There he saw a black object moving across the horizon like a car moving along a road. It was definitely the Sand Steamer from the black set of clouds that were coming out of it.  
  
"I see it, sir." The Underling called out.  
  
"Alright, boys." BDN called out tossing away the sparkler cigarette, "Remember, this time they'll be no Vash the Stampede stopping us this time. So, let's hit them hard, everything that's beautiful will belong to me."  
  
"Yes, boss." All the underlings called out.  
  
The Badland thieves got into their racecars that had neon tubes in their sides. They looks more like show cars that belongs on the Las Vegas strip rather than in the hands of the Badland thieves. In these cars they raced to catch up with the Sand Steamer. It was like Sharks catching up to a whale that was sending its blood into the ocean.  
  
In the past the Badland thieves had to have someone on the inside of the Sand Steamer to let them in. But not this time, they now had grapplers that could get a few of them onto the main deck of the Sand Steamer but only a few could get on this way. The rest would stay within the race cars while the few who made it on board would get the doors to the Steamer open. That was their way to get in and the odds were in their favor since the guns hadn't been used at all. This had gone on for so long that they had rusted themselves into place. No doubt even the controls were bad.  
  
This was the best time for the Badland thieves to act, the first attack wave had made it aboard. Now the real trick was getting through the ship and getting the main door opened. The rest of the band had waited outside following the Sand Steamer like dolphins off the bow of a great ship. BDN looked at the side as the door opened, it was done the Badland thieves had made it onboard the Sand Steamer. What an opportune time it was and this time nothing was stopping them from taking whatever they wanted.  
  
BDN paraded himself onto the deck like a combination of Liberace and Cher. His neon lights that were embedded into his tacky white cowboy outfit began to shine as he paraded himself. "I leader of the Badlands," he said, "here by take over this ship as my own. Anything that's beautiful belongs to me. Now go find them!"  
  
"Yes sir!" His underlings called out and proceeded to take the ship hostage.  
  
* * *  
  
Gun Grave was dreaming. It was the same dream that he had been having ever since he started out on this journey. There were two children, both having dark hair, one boy and one girl. They played on a stretch of grass that went only a few feet before leaking into the sands of the world that they lived on. It was a wonderful dream yet it didn't last long when the door burst open. Gun Grave awoke, his fast eyes looked to the door and there were the Badland thieves with their odd suits that had only green neon on their shoulders.  
  
"Bullet Time" Gun Grave said in his mind as he saw the Badlands outside his door. In the time that was slowed down he got up and looked at them. He had heard stories of this group and seeing them coming into his room like bandits made him think that they were on the ship. He may be a killer but even still he needed his peace and he wasn't about to let anyone stand in his way. Not even such common thieves as these. He went to get his coffin and took out his Cerberus and fired the bullets right at the thieves watching them drop like flies as he came back into real time.  
  
He went into the hall carrying his coffin and the Cerberus in each hand. Walking down the halls was pretty casual yet he was cautious, he may have a few abilities over the Badlands but they outnumbered him. So, caution was the best way to approach this situation. Going through each deck he found each one to be deserted. There weren't any of the thieves in any direction that he went it was as if the ship had been deserted. As if all the people that were here had vanished like a mirage. Somehow, Gun Grave thought, they couldn't be too far, because where else could they go?  
  
Finally he came to the deck of the Sand Steamer that had the casino. It was bigger than the casino floor of the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. So large that they had to put up signs of where each table was located, which game, which slot machine and so on. Yet somewhere towards the center of this great enormous room there was a great gathering of people. They were clustered so much that every table beyond the crowd was empty. Through the bionic eye that was at his disposal he zoomed in and found a great tall man. An abnormally tall man in a ugly white cowboy outfit with a ridiculously large brimmed hat with a neon tube in the shape of a lightning bolt on it in yellow. At that moment Gun Grave knew he had met him, the leader of the Badland Thieves, Brilliant Dynamites Neon. Just the sight of the man made Gun Grave sick to his stomach. It was because everything about him was tacky, his clothes, his abnormally tanned skin, his white smile and teeth that were all straight like the vertical bars of a prison. Gun Grave could hear the man ranting and raving. He saw that he had a handful of jewelry.  
  
"This isn't beautiful for me!" He screamed, "nothing here is beautiful. Not even the women are beautiful enough to rape. This is the worst catch we ever got."  
  
Keeping BDN in his sights of his bionic eye, Gun Grave brought up his Cerberus, it was the dark colored one that had the silver cross running along its side. He aimed it right at the tacky cowboys' head and pulled the trigger. He watched, the sound of the bullet being fired emanated throughout the whole casino, the people ducked while the badland thieves were all looking at him. BDN on the other hand never knew what hit him until he heard the sound of glass breaking. He took off his enormous white cowboy hat he had on his head, he had been shot at, but he wasn't wounded. The only thing that was, was his hat. He looked at it the place where the yellow lightning bolt neon was set. There was a bullet hole right in the center, the glass was no more, no longer shinning and no longer beautiful. BDN shoved his hat back on and looked to find out who shot him.  
  
"BRING HIM TO ME!" He screamed  
  
The Badland underlings scrambled across the enormous casino, going through the pathways between the tables, while others were going over the tables as if they were stepping-stones. Gun Grave didn't care either way, he aimed his Cerberus at them and fired one round after the other at the Badlands every one that came at him dropped like stones from the sky. Slowly he made his way towards BDN, he wanted to make that kill the best out of this lot of scum. Stepping over the bodies of the Badlands did give Gun Grave a sense of satisfaction. He was doing the world a public service by ridding them of a group of thieves. Yet, at the back of his remorseless mind he wondered who was worse, the thieves or the murderer. As soon as the first attack wave had dropped, BDN called out to his troops.  
  
"Fall back!" He called out then set his sights to Gun Grave, "Come here!"  
  
Gun Grave complied and came within good distance of BDN, while the Badlands thieves encircled him armed and ready to fire. Gun Grave looked straight at the tacky cowboy, Brilliant Dynamites Neon who looked already disgusted.  
  
"Oh," he said sneering, "you really are ugly, mister."  
  
Gun Grave knew that he was referring to the scar on the left side of his face and the bionic eye. He said nothing to such scum.  
  
"What's your name, mister?" BDN asked  
  
Gun Grave spoke out with his mind to BDN as he moved his lips, "My name is Gun Grave."  
  
"Gun Grave, huh?" He asked  
  
All his underlings looked at him oddly from under their odd masks, one even asked, "Hey boss. Why are you talking to yourself?"  
  
BDN looked down at him, "I'm not talking to myself you idiot! Can't you hear his voice? I can hear it clear as a bell."  
  
"They can't hear me." Gun Grave said out to BDN, "Because I'm only allowing you to hear me. I'm speaking to you through one of my many talents, telepathy. However, come the first mornings light you won't be able to utter this to anyone. Nor will any of your slaves."  
  
BDN narrowed one eye at Gun Grave, "Pretty confidant aren't you? Still, you're not pretty like me and by the way you ruined my favorite beautiful hat. For that I should have my gang kill you right away."  
  
"You humans pride yourself too much on skin deep beauty." Gun Grave smirked, "You can't realize the truth behind it all. I won't even bother explaining it to you, since your mind is as narrow as your neon tubes. In the end you won't matter one little bit because I'll be doing a service by getting rid of you. Even to me I'll be at peace one you're gone. You're so-called beauty. your white cliché cowboy outfit, your hat, your neon tubes, your overly tanned skin, and those teeth. Everything about you makes me sick. You're a disgrace to vision."  
  
BDN only laughed wide jawed and uproariously, "Who are you to talk about beauty with your dark clothes and that scar down your face? You make me sick, Gun Grave. I think I'd do you and everyone else a service by getting rid of your ugly mug. Attention Scumbags! First one to kill him and bring me his hat will receive something very beautiful from me."  
  
This time everyone in the room heard Gun Grave's telepathic voice, "Bullet time."  
  
Everyone watched as he vanished into thin air as if he was a ghost or a mirage. Even BDN looked in awe, as the man who criticized him on his choice of tackiness was gone. He suddenly wondered if this was a trap concocted by the ship security. Then again, if he was an illusion, illusions can't kill people. For the first time in his little life he felt afraid of someone, he never exactly felt afraid of Vash the Stampede, but this man called Gun Grave frightened him.  
  
From Gun Grave's point of view everything was at a stand still. Now he could use some very special moves. He holstered his Cerberus guns and went to that same button that brought out the target sights for the coffin missile launcher. He was within close proximity of the Badland thieves and this was just the time for his great move. Yet he wanted BDN to remain safe for his final move. Between himself and his target there was fifteen feet worth of free targets for him to work with.  
  
Gun Grave smiled as he said his attack, "Hellhound Roar!"  
  
From the coffin came a barrage of missiles that showered down on the Badland thieves like rain and hail. In slow motion the explosions sent the Badlands in every direction sprawled in mid-air loosing their guns and their lives. Gun Grave tried to think of what the last thing that these scum would think before they bit the big one.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Gun Grave thought as he continued the attack. He slowly came back within real time and watched as the last of the Badland thieves had fallen because of his attacks. All that was left were only a few underlings that were cowering under the legs of Brilliant Dynamites Neon. They watched as Gun Grave slowly emerged as if he was invisible and was becoming visible again. He looked and saw those few that were cowering before him and even BDN was looking frightened at him.  
  
Gun Grave looked remorselessly at the thieves as they dropped there guns and begged for mercy. Gun Grave only answered by drawing out the Cerberus guns and shot all that remained of the Badland Thieves. Behind him the passengers and workers alike looked in horror as well as amazement that one man could do this. Some wondered if this was Vash the Stampede in disguise, but obviously it wasn't. The reason is because he wasn't wearing the fabled red coat.  
  
He came up to Brilliant Dynamites Neon as he drew his gun. Gun Grave looked at the gun, it was just as tacky as he was, a long pistol gun that flashed red and yellow neon tubes along the top of the gun. It was pointed at such an angle that the barrel of the gun almost looked like a neon-lined escalator. Gun Grave smirked at this thought as he saw the gun trembling.  
  
"I know you're afraid." Gun Grave reached out in his mind to the thief, "you should be afraid of me. Not even the fabled Vash the Stampede compares to what I've done. Now ends this tackiness that you call beauty."  
  
BDN couldn't stand it anymore, he was reduced to his basic level which told him to survive. He pulled the trigger of his beautiful gun, but his "only human" speed was nothing compared to Gun Grave. As he sidestepped as the bullet passed him like a piece of pollen.  
  
"Is that all you have?" Gun Grave asked, "I thought that the leader of the Badland Thieves, Brilliant Dynamites Neon might have a little more in stock than this."  
  
On this tacky cowboys shoulders were enormous cylinders that looked like barrels that were carefully placed onto him. They were covered in the same white fabric as his entire cowboy outfit and lined with neon tubes just like the rest of him. He tilted his shoulders forward and began to fire, for those cylinders were called his "dynamos" but within them were gattling that could fire enormous rounds in a short amount of time. He was scared and he needed to use his last resort weapon to be rid of this creature. The gattling bullets tore through the tops of the fabric and rained its bullets out at Gun Grave.  
  
"Bullet Time" Gun Grave thought and watched the bullets come at him slowly. He moved himself in back of BDN as he continued his desperate attempt to survive and as he came back into real time again. The speed of the bullets increased until they were like the sound of rapidly popping popcorn. Luckily, BDN failed to notice that Gun Grave vanished and was standing towards his side. He couldn't notice because of those enormous dynamos on his shoulders.  
  
Soon, those dynamo gattling guns had run out of bullets. Then Gun Grave made the shot from his light colored Cerberus with the red cross running along its side. He shot the gun that BDN had in his right hand. He was defenseless. He looked at Gun Grave who took the coffin that was at his side and swung it at the enormous man. The force was so much that he landed on his back. His beautiful hat fell off and his long brown hair spread itself across the floor. He really wasn't beautiful anymore. He looked up with a face that was wide eyed, mouth opened and sweat rolling off of his face.  
  
"Oh, shit." He whimpered as tears rolled down his face that mixed with the sweat. The gunslinger knelt down and now Gun Grave looked into his dead eyes. Even that bionic eye that showed no human pities whatsoever. This time he won't have the pity of the peace loving gunslinger named Vash the Stampede. This man was a true demon and there was no sympathy coming from demons. Gun Grave held out his Cerberus, this time it was the dark one with the silver cross. He pressed it against his victims' forehead. He was now judge, jury and the executioner for this thief. The man who shinned with beauty, greed and pride was dissolved to a sniveling man in the eyes of this gunslinger. He reached out with his mind to the pitiful man.  
  
"Brilliant Dynamites Neon." He said narrowing his eye, "I'm called Gun Grave the Undead, I am the 14th Gung-Ho Gun, and you are dead." He pulled the trigger, with a loud band, a loss of struggle, and a splatter of blood on the cheap casino carpet BDN was dead.  
  
Gun Grave stood up as the casino was emptied of its occupants. Allowing Gun Grave some privacy to drain Brilliant Dynamites Neon of all his precious bodily fluids.  
  
To be continue... 


	3. The Last GungHo Gun

TRIGUN: GunGrave  
  
By ShadowHawk & Turles  
  
Disclaimer: We do not own the copyrights to Trigun, or any other copyrighted information. All Copyrights belong to their respective owners.  
  
Trigun: Gun Graves  
  
Chapter 3: The Last Gung-Ho Gun  
  
20 years ago.  
  
In the remote deserts of Gunsmoke was the city called "Little Denver", it dwelled in the shadow of the remains of a ship. Or at least a great fragment that stuck out from the ground like an enormous shark's fin. Written upon it was one word that no one knew what it means, "Seeds". The city was as big as Mei (or May) City, it wasn't short of anything, shops, schools, churches, restaurants and so on that dwelled under the enormous metallic shark fin. It was here in the city of "Little Denver" that lived the family named Strife.  
  
The Strife's were a loving family, only having the husband, wife and their three children.  
  
There was Brandon, the eldest who was 16 who like all the other Strife's had dark eyes and hair. The next one down was Rem Striffe, who was 9 years old and had long black hair that came down to her shoulders. Last of all there was Meryl Strife who had hair as short as a boys but she kept it just the same without letting anyone get to her. Yet, even in this picture perfect family, there was trouble.  
  
Most of the trouble came from Brandon, who like many first-born children was the hardest to deal with. As a young boy he caused a lot of damage around the house, such as when he was 13 he stayed out a little too late one night. His mother usually locked all the doors and windows leaving Brandon with no key to get in. So, he got in through one of the small windows using his fist as a key. The trouble the next morning was mind- boggling. The mother and father were trying to figure out why this had happen. Rem was the one who was bandaging up Brandon's right hand and Meryl she was like her parents trying to figure out why Brandon was doing all these things.  
  
Then there was that time that he wanted to use the family car but didn't know how it worked. He had the gears in reverse and then stepping on the gas pedal he then found out that the car was in reverse. That was after he felt something hit him from behind and he looked and hit the garage door.  
  
Needless to say, Brandon was a problem child. This truth was growing as Brandon got older. There were a few times when he was arrested. During that time his family was still there, Rem still was the peacemaker, but Meryl got to be a little bossier. She always tried to keep Brandon under control, which proved to be quite useless in the end. Since because of the strictness of his mother, father and Meryl, Brandon had to get away from all that. So, writing a good-bye note Brandon Strife ran from home.  
  
He thought that life would be a little better away from all the boundaries of home. How wrong little Brandon was, for from city to city his troubles only grew. He did become an avid street fighter and gunslinger. He had actually stolen a gun from a man he fought.  
  
Using this stolen pistol he continued to make trouble.  
  
That was until one day he decided to mug the wrong person, one that particular day the person turned out to be a professional gunslinger and bank robber. Brandon had realized in the instant that the bullet hit his throat how bad of a mistake he made.  
  
Brandon's funeral was short and simple, especially with the facts of his criminal life. There weren't very many people there to mourn for him, until the news reached his family back in Little Denver. Then all of his family mourned for him. All of them wishing that he had stayed home. His mother and father crying over his grave with their tears like rain upon the sandy soil. Their little girl Rem was devastated when she cried in the arms of her sister. Meryl Strife had to be the strong one for her sister since their beloved brother was gone.  
  
Yet, there was something in that graveyard that caught Meryl's eye. It was over on one corner of the cemetery, there was a small shack. IN the creeping shadow of it there stood a figure. She couldn't see it very well because of the darkness, but she did notice the long white coat of whoever was standing in there. She also noticed what looked like spikes extending from one of the shoulders like rays of the sun and it also looked like the figure had his or her arms crossed like someone waiting for a haircut.  
  
Meryl was brought back to the matters of her family. Even though Meryl was only six years old she had to keep her sister together. She left the cemetery that was called Jerusalem's Lot leaving behind a piece of the past that she will forget. She will forget this past even inside the Bernardelli Insurance Society but the drive to fix things up would still exist and so would her bossy attitude.  
  
Back in Jerusalem's Lot the figure moved out of the shadows. He wore a long white coat that brushed the headstones that he walked past. His black hair touched the tops of his ears and covered his left eye. While his right eye beamed out into the cemetery with a vampire yellow hue to his iris. On his left shoulder were spikes like spokes on a bicycle wheel. On his right arm was a human skull wrapped onto his arm with a chord piercing through the bridge between the eyes like a nose ring.  
  
He walked up to Brandon's grave never stepping upon the area where the casket was laid. He widened his eye at the grave as if in surprise but actually had a strange determination about it. He stared down as the ground shook and up from it the dirt and sand plowed away as the casket was brought back to the surface. It rose to the surface like some kind of great rock being thrown from the soil by a great earthquake.  
  
The coffin was settling itself upon the freshly shifted dirt. It was a simply wooden box in the typical coffin shape with six sides and a cross set upon it. The man in the white coat looked at it and as if being pulled up by magic hands the coffin nails began to rise out from the box at the same time like rising trees. At last they weren't holding the top board down onto the box as it shifted off to the side revealing the poor soul who had died in it.  
  
He looked down at Brandon Strife as his eyes narrowed back to normal and for a brief moment this vampire like man was looking at him oddly. For this look was like that of human pity.  
  
Far off into the desert did the man in the white coat carry the body of Brandon Strife. He brought him to a great chasm that looked like any other chasm on this planet. Yet hidden within this chasm was a ship that had crashed upon this dust ball of a planet long ago.  
  
Within the belly of that metallic giant was the equipment that the man in the white coat needed to use Brandon Strife to his own doing. Down into the chasm they went, the man with the white coat kept looking down the stone stairs while the object on his left side grew. It was like a skyscraper that had lost its foundation and had set up its new home in this subterranean world. Along its sides were steel cables that held it in place within this narrow drop.  
  
The body of Brandon Strife was stiff from his death, he was bent at his waist on the man's shoulder in a 45-degree angle with his arms dangling like a lifeless doll. His eyes never open as the man in the white coat had approached the door of the underground skyscraper.  
  
Standing near the edge of the doors was 11 other people. The most diverse crowd to ever been seen by human eyes. One man was enormous and muscular, there was a woman who had a metallic eye patch, a boy with a red scarf, and a man who was carrying a very odd looking saxophone.  
  
"Legato Bluesummers." He said, "You're back."  
  
"I am, Midvalley." Legato said, "And I've found a new recruit for the Gung- Ho Guns." Midvalley crossed the bridge between the rock wall that held the stone staircase and the underground skyscraper. He looked at the body that was slung over Legato's shoulder.  
  
Like all the other Gung-Ho Guns, Midvalley the Hornfreak could definitely tell when someone was dead. He looked back at his master and bowed.  
  
"Forgive me for being observant." He asked, "But this person you brought with us is dead. How can he be a Gung-Ho Gun?"  
  
"Simple." Legato answered, "We'll use the help of our master to revive him. He has only been dead for under a day. It won't be a problem for the master to deal with."  
  
Legato walked to the doors of the underground skyscraper. Its exterior was filthy, covered in dirt, sand and rust. Yet somewhere in the heights of it all there was a single word that was starting to fade from its metallic shell. The word was "Seeds". It seemed ironic to Legato that a ship with the word "seeds" could give rise to such creatures as he and the other Gung- Ho Guns. The great doors of the underground skyscraper opened in slow great motion sending down its dust and debris. Within Legato saw the gleaming white lights of the skyscrapers interior, it all looked brand new as if this place was just built yesterday. He walked forward through the blinding lights of the hallway to a great chamber.  
  
The chamber held what looked like glass caskets or at least that's what they looked like at first glance. A closer look shows that they are actually capsules for people to sleep in or rather to hibernate. Legato came to a small bridge that extended outward into the chamber but then stopped like the edge of a cliff. Down below his feet the chamber opened up into a greater and more spacious place like a canyon. In front of Legato was a capsule like all the others, but inside it was a man, suspended in a light blue fluid.  
  
"Master." Legato called to that capsule, "I have brought another man to become one of us."  
  
Inside the capsule the man inside awakened and breathed through the water like it was air. As he spoke his voice could be heard throughout the chamber like a priest within his own church. Legato never took his eyes away from his as he spoke.  
  
"Very good, Legato." The man inside had said, "place him in one of the capsules, allow the lost technology heal him. Then we can make him one of us."  
  
"I understand, master."  
  
From one of the walls, a capsule came forward, its glass dome that covered its front opened up as if inviting someone to come within it. Legato moved toward it and placed the body of Brandon Strife into it. The glass closed around the capsule, the body slumped down into a crouching position as the capsule was filled with the same light blue fluid. It filled all the way to the top allowing Brandon's body to float within it as the capsule moved back along the great wall of this cavern like chamber.  
  
"Master Knives?" Legato asked, "When we make him one of us, he cannot have his original human name. We must give him one suitable for the Gung-Ho Guns."  
  
"Agreed." The man in capsule named Knives answered, "I'll leave that up to you." "Thank you, master." Legato bowed and left the room.  
  
The twin suns had crossed and rolled through the blue diamond sky. The clouds have come, gone and come back again. Events above ground haven't' changed a bit, peoples lives have gone on, people have died, and Vash the Stampede still wanders.  
  
Days had passed, soon the days had turned into weeks. The weeks slowly went by that gave away to months, and soon it had nearly been a year. Yet, inside the underground skyscraper, Brandon Strife was undergoing a great amount of changes. His heart had started again, life had come back into his body, his heart was beating again and the wound in his throat was healing. Whatever magic or lost technology was in this place it had brought a young man back to life from the death that he once was held.  
  
From the point of view of the Gung-Ho guns it had nearly felt like an eternity. Especially to those who were waiting a long time to put their plans into action, but Legato and Knives were patient. Who could blame them? They could live for hundreds of years or were perhaps immortal and could afford to be patient, the rest of the Gung-Ho Guns were restless in waiting for Brandon to come out of that capsule.  
  
To Brandon on the other hand, everything was like a dream or maybe a nightmare of the things that had happened. He thought back to all those terrible things that he did and thought that if he did things a little differently the death wouldn't have been so horrible. He then thought about the man he tried to mug. He had very black and slicked back hair, which matched very well, with his equally black suit. At the time that Brandon tried to mug him he saw what else the stranger had.  
  
A very pink/purple shirt that was unbuttoned to expose the lapels and his chest, but it was what he had in his hands that was burned into Brandon's memory. The man held a very odd looking saxophone, come to think of it, before he mugged him he heard him playing very beautiful music before he was killed by him. His memories flashed and saw the man take his saxophone he looked as though he was going to play it but it opened and out sprung six barrels and it shot Brandon.  
  
Brandon awoke violently to find himself in a tube surrounded by blue water. His instincts told him that if he was in water he could drown. He struggled and banged against the glass trying to break free and breath. Yet as he struggled he found that he wasn't loosing air at all, as a matter of fact he was breathing in this water. Where am I? He thought, is this heaven? He looked at himself and found that he was wearing a fine suit yet he had this scratchy feeling in his throat. He reached up and felt a scar or a crater in his throat. It wasn't a dream. He ripped open his shirt and found bullet holes in his chest. Five of them in a diagonal order, two of them were in a downward angle to his left from his chest. While the other three were in the same angle but only a few inches away from the first two bullet holes. So, he had died from six gun shot wounds, but why was he feeling alive?  
  
"Let me out!" He shouted, but he felt very odd because he could feel his lips moving but he couldn't feel anything in his throat. Normally in water anyone could feel a vibration from their throat when they speak but Brandon wasn't feeling anything except his lips moving as if he was speaking.  
  
In his original panicked state he didn't see out into the rest of the chamber he only wanted to get out to breathe once again. Now that he's had time to calm down and assess where he was or at least be calm enough to breathe in this odd water. He looked through the distorted view of the glass and beyond. He found that he was standing up he could feel it from the gravity like knowing that the gravity was pulling down from his feet instead of on his back like lying in bed. He looked and found the chamber to be enormous, it was like the inside of the plants at some of the towns. There was an enormous light bulb object to his left but in front of it was a bridge or at least half of one that extended out to it. Below it was just more space like a cavern. He wanted to know where he was and why he was still alive.  
  
As the question was asked so too was the entire capsule moved. To Brandon it was now like being inside a carriage being moved along and set down. He felt the pull of gravity move from his feet to the whole of his back. He knew he was lying down he also knew that from all the air bubbles that traveled to the front of the capsule. At the same time he saw the water drain away and then a feeling of a sucking action all around him.  
  
The blue water drained away and he then felt relief that he would breathe normal air again. Then a thought popped in his head, if he could breath water what's to say that he wouldn't be able to breathe air again? Would he have to spend the rest of his life in a tube filled with blue water?  
  
As the rest of the water drained away he tried to move (in the limited space he had) to breath in what was left of the water. He began to feel the water running off of his skin and the dry feeling coming back.  
  
The fear was growing when the last of the water was gone and Brandon was holding onto his breath. He held it in like a pot smoker holding in the smoke. Then he felt a tickle in his throat, like he was about to cough. He couldn't hold back the feeling anymore he coughed. Against the dry skin and from within his throat he felt water. He was coughing up water, he didn't notice at first but he then felt air coming back into his lungs. He could breathe air again.  
  
"Thank you, God." He thought  
  
Then the glass door of the capsule opened. He leaned up and looked around to see his surroundings more clearly and in living color. It truly was a strange place, but the strange went to the bizarre when he heard music. It was the music of the saxophone. Brandon looked as a man dressed in a white coat came over to him across the bridge.  
  
"Good morning, Brandon Strife." His voice was a calm tone almost apathetic from Brandon's point of view.  
  
"Hello." Brandon said but he heard no words coming from his mouth. Brandon grasped for his throat and felt that bullet hole again. It was true now, he had no voice anymore. How would he speak? How will he live life if he couldn't speak anymore?  
  
"Don't' be afraid that you lost your voice." The man in the white coat spoke out loud.  
  
"Who are you!" Brandon tried to shout but only his lips moved as he screamed so loud in his mind.  
  
"My name is Legato.. Legato Bluesummers." Legato introduced himself, "And I am also the 12th Gung-Ho Gun."  
  
"What's happened to me!" Brandon cried, but the only thing that came from him was his tears as he sat in the lying down capsule. "How are you hearing me?!"  
  
"You've died." Legato explained, "But with the technology of our master we've brought you back to life. And I am hearing you through your thoughts. When you died, you were brought here and you were changed. You've been made more powerful than before. You've become telepathic with the aid of our powers. The powers of the Gung-Ho Guns and you my young friend are now a Gung-Ho Gun."  
  
"I don't want this!" Brandon screamed as he covered his ears hoping to block out the voice of Legato. As he tried to block out the voices he cried silent tears but through it all he heard music. He looked over Legato's shoulder and saw a man standing in the entrance. A man that was playing a saxophone, Brandon knew who it was, it was the man that killed him.  
  
Brandon got up from his capsule and dashed over to the man who was playing the saxophone. In his pity and his rage, Brandon grabbed the man by the lapels of his suit and shouted at him, silently.  
  
"Why did you kill me?!" Brandon demanded with the fires in his eyes at the saxophone player, "Who are you!?"  
  
The sax player shrugged, "Sorry, kid I can't hear you."  
  
Brandon raised his fist and slugged the sax player and the sax player fell to his side with his saxophone. But then Brandon felt a strange feeling in him; all his muscles froze as if he had lost control of himself. He then felt himself move down onto his knees and his arms moved by themselves. His hands were placed behind his head against his will. He was facing the 12th Gung-Ho Gun, Legato Bluesummers.  
  
"I see you still have a lot of work to be done." Legato stated, "you've struck one of your fellow team members. This arrogance must be punished."  
  
Brandon felt his left arm move by itself again, he watched as his left hand formed a claw. He tried to fight against whatever force was at work against him. But he couldn't stop what was about to happen.  
  
Legato watched as he used his powers against Brandon Strife. The boy looked so pitiful on his knees, then again to Legato humans are so easily controlled. All he had to do was concentrate just a tad and they were like puppets. Brandon shoved his fingers into his right eye, from the wounds that he had made the blood ran down his fingers to his hands and down his arm. It also ran down his face where it went into his silently screaming mouth. Legato then commanded Brandon to pull out his hand and Brandon did so against his will. He pulled out what remained of his eye. The pain was indescribable it was at the point where he wished that he was back home with his family. He realized the errors of his way but it was all too much for him to take as he spewed onto the clean floor where his blood lay.  
  
Released from Legato's power, Brandon had fainted with the agonizing pain still there in his face. Legato went over and picked up Brandon in his arms and went across the bridge over to the enormous light bulb where Knives was watching the whole time.  
  
"Why did you do that, Legato?" Knives asked  
  
"Forgive me master." Legato bowed with the unconscious boy in his arms, "the boy needed to be taught a lesson. I feel that he is still too attached to his human past. I think he needs to have his childhood memories erased so that we may train him to be a killer like us all."  
  
"Very well." Knives agreed, "put him back in the capsule. Have some special weapons made for him, a new set of clothes and an eye to replace the one that you forced him to rip out."  
  
Legato bowed again, "I understand master." He went back to the capsule and placed Brandon back into it. The glass door covered it as it filled with the blue water again but this time the blood from his missing eye had mixed with the blood too.  
  
Weeks had passed, weeks gave way to months and moths to years. Brandon had change even more while inside the capsule. Occasionally he would be taken out, but he would be kept under sedation. During that time his eye had been replaced with a bionic one. His muscles also began to bulge all over, pretty soon he became so muscular that he had ripped his funeral clothes. So, his old funeral clothes were taken away, while a new set was being made for him.  
  
There was even one day when Legato and Knives looked at Brandon together. They felt that he needed a new name, a name that was worthy of the Gung-Ho Guns.  
  
"I christened him," Legato stated, "Gun Grave the Undead, the 14th Gung-Ho Gun."  
  
With the lost technology at the disposal that the Gung-Ho Guns had, they erased Brandon's (or rather Gun Grave's old past). They soon replaced it with new memories, memories of him being within the company of the Gung-Ho guns ever since he was a kid. From his point of view everything was dark. Then he began to loose thoughts and memories. The voices of people he used to know were there but then they were gone. Once there clear as could be but then they were gone like a snowflake in a fire's grip.  
  
Then Brandon woke up he was sitting on a table and his clothes were changed, he was wearing a jacket that had broad shoulders that made him look bulky and even more muscular. He was even wearing gun holsters. Then something strange occurred to him, what was his name?  
  
"Who am I?" He thought to himself, "Where am I?"  
  
"Good morning, Gun Grave." A voice spoke and he looked and there was Legato Bluesummers.  
  
"Hello." He said noticing that he had no voice or even any recollection of what has happened. Then he thought about what he did know and then he had a set of things coming back into his mind. He remembered training with several people, people that he knew as the only family he had. It was as if something had knocked all that away from him and it was now coming back. His family, the Gung-Ho Guns, Monev the Gail who taught him to sharp shoot and to physically train. Dominique the Cyclops who taught him how to use a technique called Bullet Time. Chapel the Evergreen who taught him how to use his guns the Cerberus as well as the coffin that Chapel had designed. Even the dark Legato, who taught him to use his psychic abilities, the life he had was clear now. "Master Bluesummers." Gun Grave said with his mind, "What happened?"  
  
"You were careless while training with Chapel." Legato explained, "You fell quite far and even though you are a Gung-Ho Gun, it is a miracle that you survived at all."  
  
"I promise it will never happen again." Gun Grave pleaded even though he had no recollection of such an accident except training with Chapel the Evergreen and then taking a stumble. He never knew how serious that stumble was until now.  
  
"I've come to tell you this." Legato said, "You're training is nearly complete. Now you have to travel above ground through the cities. You are to go west and keep going west until you are instructed otherwise. We of the Gung-Ho Guns are in search of a man named Vash the Stampede."  
  
"The brother of Master Knives." Gun Grave stated  
  
"Yes." Legato answered as he pulled back the sleeve of his left and looked at it with a glare in his eyes that was like ecstasy. "We don't know where he is, so all we can do now is simply search for him. All of us are searching, that's why you are to go, but remember Vash is spineless he'll think twice about killing. Which will give you the advantage."  
  
Gun Grave looked and found his coffin with its connecting chains lying on the floor. He went over to it and slung the coffin over his shoulder. He looked and found his broad brimmed had and looked at his master with his normal eye and bionic eye that he had for as long as he could remember.  
  
"I'm ready master." He said  
  
"Go, then." Legato said, "Remember to supply yourself with fresh fluids from humans. That will be the only way that you can sustain yourself."  
  
Gun Grave remembered the egg he was given that would help him to be supplied with bodily fluids. He patted his coffin knowing that the egg was in it. He left the underground skyscraper and found the surface to be full of blistering heat instead of the cool underground. He looked to where the suns were setting and knowing that was the west. He headed in that direction feeling a small itch from within his coat. He reached in and found a pocket there and pulled out a picture. A badly worn picture with two children in it, a boy and a girl. He couldn't tell who they were or why the picture was in his pocket. Yet as he headed off into the west he had put aside the picture and placed it back in his pocket. Even if he did put it aside he still couldn't help it, it was like a reoccurring itch that had to be scratched sooner or later. Who were those children in that picture?  
  
To be continued. 


	4. Truth of Pity

TRIGUN: GunGrave  
  
By ShadowHawk & Turles  
  
Disclaimer: We do not own the copyrights to Trigun, or any other copyrighted information. All Copyrights belong to their respective owners.  
  
Trigun: Gun Grave  
  
Chapter 4: Truth of Pity  
  
Back in the present, Gun Grave awoke in his bed on the Sand Steamer. His flash about the past had consumed him in his sleep. The sleepiness was still in his eyes as he stared up at the rusty awful looking ceiling of this old ship. Then again, everything on this planet is old and rusted. He sat up in his bed and felt the sweat come between him and his shirt. Reaching up to his forehead he brushed away the sweat on his face. The flashbacks he had were the only memories of the past he had. He didn't know anything before the Gung-Ho Guns, nothing. It was as if he was born of the Gung-Ho Guns.  
  
"Nyao." A small voice called out.  
  
Gun Grave looked and sitting there at the foot of his bed was a small black cat. It looked at him with its enormous yellow eyes with its cat-eye slits. He didn't know what to make of the cat or (for that matter) how it got into his room in the first place.  
  
Looking at the cat, Gun Grave never moved and neither did the cat. They simply looked at each other separated by only a few feet of the bed.  
  
As he stared, Gun Grave began felt something within him. Something that he didn't recognize nor had a word for. Yet the feeling was still there.  
  
He outstretched his arms to the cat and the cat came walking up to the gunman. The cat began to rub its head into Gun Grave chest and for the first time in a very long time the gunman smiled at the cat as he petted it.  
  
He rubbed his fingers through the cats black fur and had no desire to kill it. It truly was a first for him in which he had no desire to kill something that was in his company. Petting the cat Gun Grave suddenly realized that the Sand Steamer had stopped.  
  
Still holding the cat in his arms he got up from the bed and looked out of the small round window he had. From his vantage-point he saw a city that was nestled against a mountain range, it was circular, its streets and buildings almost looked like a spiders web from his distance. He knew this place.  
  
It was Warren City. It was here that he decided to make a stop he looked down at the cat in his arms that looked back at him with its big yellow eyes.  
  
"Nyao." It said.  
  
"I think," Gun Grave said to himself, "I'll call you, Kuroneko."  
  
Still holding onto the cat he went to the coffin and opened it up and placed the cat in it. He gave it one last rub before he closed the lid and heard the cat say its singular phrase.  
  
"Nyao."  
  
Gun Grave gently slung the coffin onto his shoulders before embarking out into Warren City. He walked through the halls of the Sand Steamer, but he never used Bullet Time especially with his furry companion in his coffin. He knew that Bullet Time would have no adverse effects on him but who knows what they might do to Kuroneko. So, carefully stepping off of the Sand Steamer, he came down into Warren City. He had heard of this place before.  
  
It was the town that the gunsmith named Frank Marlin lived. A long time ago in Warren City it was overrun but vicious bandits so Frank Marlin the gunsmith handed out guns to the people that he made and taught the people how to use them. At least that was the sweet side of the story, then it turned dark when his wife and daughter were killed in a bank robbery.  
  
They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but to Frank the worst part was that the robbers had used the very same guns he made. After that horrible incident, Frank Marlin crawled inside a whiskey bottle and had been there ever since. That was until his encounter with a man in a long red coat that made him realize why he was a gunsmith in the first place. It was because of Frank Marlin that there was no sheriff at all in Warren City.  
  
The local tavern of Warren City was the place that was usually bustling with activity. This place also acted not only as the tavern but also as a restaurant and a dance hall. Like so many other places that Gun Grave had been to whenever he entered a tavern (or bar) everyone would stop to gain one look at him. Ignoring the stares he casually walked to one of the barstools, sat down and carefully placed his coffin with his companion still inside.  
  
The bartender was a plump middle-age woman who came over to him.  
  
"What'll you have, stranger?" She asked out of habit.  
  
Gun Grave moved his lips and said "A glass of whiskey and a saucer of milk."  
  
She leered at him wondering why a man would want milk when he could have glorious alcohol instead. She watched as he moved and opened the lid of the coffin and from it sprang a little black cat with enormous yellow eyes.  
  
The bartender didn't ask questions as she served the milk. She set the saucer on the bar while the cat lapped it up, happy as he could possibly be. Yet she didn't give Gun Grave his whiskey. She held it back in one hand but extended the other as if asking for a tip.  
  
"I don't want no trouble." She said, "So, your gonna have to give me your gun until you leave."  
  
Gun Grave didn't exhale or roll his eyes, he just sat complacently. He leaned over to his coffin and pulled out the Cerberus guns and handed them to the bartender. He laid them down upon the bar where his cat still lapped up the milk ignoring the world around him.  
  
The bartender looked at the gun with eyebrows raised. She had to take them one at a time in order to store them underneath the bar since her hand was still holding onto the whiskey.  
  
She never said anything about the guns, she only gave the drink to her customer and went about her daily business.  
  
Behind Gun Grave a friendly game of poker was going on between four people who were just starting to get to know each other.  
  
Sitting at one part of the circular table was a woman in a red outfit (pants and jacket) with a Marshall's star upon her left breast. She was young and blonde with her hair pulled up into a bun in the back of her head. This was Marshall Maryanne Alukaisen.  
  
Next to the Marshall was a beautiful younger girl with long brown hair and hazel eyes that looked carefully at her cards.  
  
Unlike the Marshall who wore very masculine clothes, this young woman wore a proper dress accentuating every curve of her feminine body.  
  
This was the daughter of one of the richest men on Gunsmoke, a man named Bowstock, but otherwise known as Grim Reaper Bowstock.  
  
The beautiful young girl was named Stephanie Bowstock.  
  
The other two at the table were men. One of them was a dirty looking person who looked as though he had worn the same clothes for the past week.  
  
Not in an on and off fashion but more like he slept in the clothes he was wearing. The dirtiest part of him was his hands, which were stained with, grease, dirt and grim that contrasted against the bright colors of the cards.  
  
His bulbous nose was above the edge of the cards as he looked out at his opponents. On the table near him was a bottle of the best whiskey in the house, he took it and swigged it down like water. This man was the hero of the town, the Gunsmith Frank Marlin.  
  
The last person sitting at the table was a very muscular man who wasn't afraid to show off his muscles by wearing a tank top. Yet his pants were only held up not by a belt but by thin suspenders. He looked at his opponents with his bald head shinning in the dim light which didn't hid the star shaped tattoo on his forehead. He was a member of the Big Brother Gang, named Joe Brother.  
  
The game was intense, everyone had made their bets and all was riding on this last set of bets. The Marshall looked at her cards with hidden confidence, in her experience, dealing with criminals she has taught herself a poker face so that she can't give away the zeal she had over her hand. She had three of a kind, three tens, an ace and a king. Luck had to be on her side.  
  
"I'll bet twenty double dollars." She said looking across the table to the man who was next in the turn base, the Gunsmith Frank Marlin.  
  
Frank took one swig of his whiskey bottle, setting it back down he wiped away the excess. He looked back at his cards and deep within the pit of his stomach the excitement grew as he had four of a kind. He had four sevens and a duce, he knew that this could beat several common combos.  
  
"I'll see your twenty, and I'll raise you eighty double dollars." He set his stack of chips at the edge of the pile where the one double dollar antes were chipped in.  
  
Both Maryanne and Frank could only stare at each other hoping that they would win this hand. This game had gone from friendly to frantic with real money on the line. The hearts around this table were thumping with the pile of chips growing with each ludicrous bet.  
  
Next was Joe Brother, he looked at both Maryanne and Frank. He brought his eyes back to his cards and saw that he had a full house. He had two kinds and three queens.  
  
He knew that there were only two hands that could beat this hand. A straight which is uncommon but can be made, and a royal flush.  
  
A royal flush is a hand that is so improbably that it's damn near impossible to get. He knew that the odds were in his favor.  
  
"I'll see your bets," He said, "one-hundred double dollars and I'll raise both of you two-hundred double dollars."  
  
He placed his stacks at the edge of the pile and the colors and height of the stack already scared the competitors. Frank and Maryanne raised their eyebrows and decided that this was definitely the time to quit while they were ahead.  
  
"I fold." Frank said bitterly as he laid his cards down while taking a very big gulp on his whiskey.  
  
Maryanne shook her head, "Too rich for my blood." She laid her cards down and watched as the game came down only to these two, Stephanie Bowstock whose butler was standing right behind her looking at the cards she had.  
  
Stephanie stared right back at Joe Brother and smiled, "Well, then that makes 300 for me to see. So, I'll see that bet and raise you 500."  
  
Joe Brother smirked, "800 double dollars, you must be pretty confident about your hand. I'll see all that and raise you everything else I have. That makes over 1500 double dollars. Let's see your cards."  
  
He shoved the remaining piles of chips he had to the pile making it almost like a fortress of poker chips.  
  
Stephanie did the same making hers like a skyline of poker chip stacks but she still kept her smile.  
  
"I have," the member of the Big Brother gang said, "a full house, kings and queens." He laid his cards out in plain view for Maryanne, Frank and Stephanie to see. He glowed as if he knew he won but he didn't know what was coming to him.  
  
Stephanie took out one card at a time and laid them out on the table evenly spaced.  
  
"10 of spades." She said methodically as if reading the names off of a list, "Jack of Spades, Queens of Spades, King of Spades, and Ace of Spades. I believe that makes a royal flush."  
  
Joe Brother, the member of the Big Brother Gang looked down at the cards and couldn't believe his own eyes and ears. No one had ever gotten a great hand like that and here it was right in front of him. He could only look at Stephanie's cards and back to his in denial hoping that there was some kind of mistakes.  
  
But there wasn't one, he lowered his head and moaned his admission for defeat. While Stephanie Bowstock relished her victory as she pulled in the poker chips like Ebenezer Scrooge hoarding his precious gold.  
  
"I give." Joe said as he walked out of the saloon.  
  
Stephanie didn't even try to call him back because she had a feeling that there was something wrong with that man. Yet, she didn't allow that to spoil her fun as she set her eyes back on her game mates. She smiled.  
  
"Would you two like to play again?" She asked  
  
Maryanne shrugged, "Sure."  
  
Frank took a swig of his whiskey, "Why not?" He asked, "I don't have anything to loose."  
  
* * *  
  
On the outskirts of Warren City there was an alliance of the most ghastly proportions that was taking place. Far from the town was a rocky hillside that when anyone stood on the top of it they could see the city and its odd shape and how its division of buildings and streets made it all look like a spider's web.  
  
Behind the summit of this rocky hillside was a convertible car that had a frilly-laced umbrella perched just right for the man sitting under it.  
  
This was the head of the Big Brother Gang, who has no other name except for the name his members give him, "Big Brother".  
  
Likewise as he only calls his gang members' "brother". He sat under the umbrella that protected him from the hot sun as he read a smutty little magazine and giggled as he looked at the pictures the folded out of them. Yet he wasn't the only one there, around the car were the members of his gang that waited for their plans to go into action.  
  
Again, they weren't' the only ones there, the Nebraska Family was there too.  
  
The Nebraska family, one of the most dangerous families known, for more than obvious reasons. First there was the father of the family, a short bald scraggly little man with a green tinted monocle and only three teeth left in his skull. He was sitting in his sons' pocket. His son, Gofsef Nebraska who was enormous in comparison to his father who was only five foot three inches, while his son was over 200 feet tall same as his mother Patricia Nebraska.  
  
Both Patricia and Gofsef looked almost like machines with their enormous size and mechanical parts driving them. The children of the family were Marilyn (one of the only daughters to the Nebraska's), then there were the sons Chinpei, Tonkachi, and Kanta. The Nebraska family (as one man might put it) was the perfect "Anti-Brady Bunch".  
  
The Nebraska family was nestled away from the car that the head of the Big Brother Gang since the size of Gofsef and Patricia Nebraska made him nervous to say the least.  
  
Then who could blame him? Both Gofsef and Patricia could make anyone nervous with their enormous size and menacing looks with all the primitive mechanical parts in their bodies like steam engine trains.  
  
Just then one of the members of the big brother gang was coming, Big Brother knew who it was just from the look, it was Joe Brother.  
  
"Big Brother." He called gasping for air running up to the car. He came up to the car trying to avoid contact with the Nebraska family, "Big Brother. I found her, I found the girl we need to capture, Stephanie Bowstock, the daughter of Grim Reaper Bowstock."  
  
Big Brother set aside his smutty magazine and took out one of his guns that split open into a lighter. He light it and took in an easy breath to puff it all back out again.  
  
"Excellent work, Brother." Big Brother smiled with the cigarette between his teeth,  
  
"Now we can make even more money then just robbing a bank."  
  
"What are you waiting for?" The little Professor Nebraska asked from his son's pocket, his voice sounding high and squeaky at the same time, "Let's go get the little girl and hold her ransom."  
  
"Huuurrr!" Gofsef grunted as the steam engine piston in the back of his head spewed out smoke as if saying very primitively money good!  
  
"No." Big Brother said sucking in the smoke, "You guys will draw too much attention. I'll send my brothers to get her and I've already written the ransom note."  
  
He reached into the car and pulled out the piece of paper that had the ransom writ upon it. This was the plan and Big Brother couldn't help but to laugh.  
  
"It's 4,000 yars to the nearest town and no sheriff, just like last time. And best of all no one's going to stop us, not the armed towns' people or anyone. We'll just take Stephanie from her bed tonight, got that dear brothers?"  
  
"Yes!" The brothers said in unison.  
  
Later that night at one of the many local hotels of Warren City, Miss Stephanie Bowstock was getting ready to take a very relaxing shower.  
  
She stood in the cast iron bathtub, her curtains drawn and the windows closed she allowed her hair to come down over her body. The soothingly warm water ran all over her naked body and through her brown hair. The only sounds she could hear was the rapid tap, tap sound the water made against the cast iron tub. In this state, Miss Stephanie was even more beautiful then all her clothes could even say. It is said that the nudity of the human body is the purest form that could ever be obtained, in Miss Stephanie's case that statement is only next door to the truth.  
  
She didn't see it; her eyes were closed to the approaching danger that was coming from behind the shower curtain. It was a dark luminous shadow like death itself that was coming for her.  
  
It crept step by step making sure that it didn't step upon any of the loose floorboards that would creak and call Miss Stephanie's attention. The creeping shadow came up to the shower curtain, its weapon of choice in hand, it reached for the shower curtain and it yanked it back.  
  
All of a sudden Miss Stephanie's attention was completely diverted, here she was a young beautiful girl, naked in the shower being attacked by an unknown person. She didn't care if the water or soap got in her eyes or if her hair was in her face. The shadow that was in front of her made her afraid. She tried to cover her body, placing her arm across her breasts while she shrieked.  
  
It was a shriek that almost sounded like an old teakettle that was boiling sending its steam through the whistle of its spout.  
  
Stephanie couldn't fight as the figure shoved a white cloth on her face and the more she shrieked the more effect of whatever was in the cloth got into her.  
  
She let go of the struggle as the chemical soaked into her system. She no longer saw the shadow as she fell into darkness.  
  
* * * Just next door was the room that Gun Grave was staying. He was staying here because according to the schedule of the Sand Steamer it was here to drop off several supplies to this town. So, therefore there was time to actually relax and since he had a new companion not everyday feels so lonely anymore.  
  
Each time Gun Grave would turn there would be that cat, smiling with those big yellow eyes at him. He was dreaming again that night it was about the same two children, but this time a third was there. The third one was much younger than the first two but still the question remained of who these children were. The question burned within the gunslinger like heartburn that wouldn't disappear.  
  
He remembered looking at one of the child's face, it was one of the girls face and her mouth opened like she was about to say something.  
  
Instead the girl screamed such a shriek that Gun Grave awoke from his sleep covering his ears. The scream wasn't in his dream it was coming from the next room, soon it stopped and he was at last in peace with himself.  
  
Or so he thought, next after the screaming came more voices. With buildings such as these there isn't exactly as much insulation so therefore anything loud can be heard in the next room. Such as one could hear a couple screaming out as they make love or when someone is having a fight.  
  
"What's happened?" A commanding ladies voice asked  
  
Next came the sound of sobbing in a mans voice, "It's Miss Stephanie, she's been kidnapped!"  
  
"Calm down." The lady commanded, "Is there a note or anything like that?"  
  
The man's sobbing began to die down as he began to read, "To Grim Reaper Bowstock," He read, "We have your daughter. We demand a ransom of 500,000 double dollars to be delivered 5 isles outside of town."  
  
The man who was reading this tried to keep back his sobbing so that his reading was clear but he couldn't' help it, "If any tricks are used then your precious.." He sobbed, "daughter Stephanie Bowstock will die. Signed, The Big Brother Gang and The Nebraska Family."  
  
"Don't worry." The woman's voice said,  
  
"I'll find a way."  
  
Gun Grave sat up in his bed and listened to the voices coming from the next room. He thought about it but then he figured that it had nothing to do with him. He turned around on his and there was his furry little companion staring at him his eyes speaking something different.  
  
Gun Grave couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly but it was still there. The cat even though it could only speak one phrase seemed to speak in a thousand words with one glance.  
  
The look seemed like disappointment to him, he then understood that the cat was telling him that something should be done about this. Even though he already took his stance and felt that it had nothing to do with him.  
  
The cat was telling him without saying a word that he should do otherwise.  
  
"I guess your right, Kuroneko." Gun Grave smiled, such a rare sight for a man who is undead to be smiling in his state. He had to do something about this situation, who knew what it was, guilt because if the girl died it would be on his consciousness.  
  
Could it have been something deeper under the surface? A residue of humanity left in his undead body? Who knows, but Gun Grave felt that he should do something or his peace would be disturbed.  
  
He gathered his things together into his coffin as well as his cat, but this time the cat didn't jump into the coffin. This time he jumped onto the board shoulders that Gun Grave had. He nuzzled up to his cold cheek and brushing past his cyborg eye. Gun Grave couldn't resist but bring up his hand to pet his cat.  
  
"Let's go then." He said as he made his way down the hall. But as he did just behind him was the Marshall that was at the bar earlier that day.  
  
Marshall Maryanne, she was the one who was asking questions to Miss Stephanie's butler.  
  
Yet, she saw Gun Grave move down the hall and then she grew a little suspicious. Some would call it "police instinct" while others would probably call it "Feminine Intuition".  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" She called to Gun Grave.  
  
Gun Grave stopped and spoke through his mind to the Marshall, "I'm going to save the day."  
  
"Not without me your not!" She said as she ran down to Gun Grave, but she couldn't get in front of him since his wide shoulders were hogging the hallway.  
  
At last when they got down to the street, Maryanne was able to get a glimpse of this self-proclaimed savior. She saw him in the light of the street lamps. His face was cold and expressionless especially with that bionic eye of his. His clothes dark as if he was an undertaker or someone going to a funeral. The coffin that hung from chains wrapped around his shoulders made Maryanne shudder at the sight of them. He looked like he was going to kill anyone who would look at him funny, but if she only knew the half of it. Yet it was the cat that made Maryanne scratch her head. How could a man as frightening as death itself have such an animal like that?  
  
"What do you plan to do?" She asked  
  
Gun Grave moved his lips while he spoke into Maryanne's mind, "I plan to save the girl." He said casually as if he was ordering a meal.  
  
"You're pretty confident aren't you?"  
  
Maryanne asked looking up at him, "Do you realize whom you're going up against? This is the Nebraska family and I'm not just talking about one or two of them, but the whole family is there. Do you really think that you can fight them all?"  
  
"I don't think I can." Gun Grave said walking along to the outskirts of town, "I know I will."  
  
Maryanne suddenly felt a chill run down her spine like the feeling of cool wind brushing the back of her neck. She knew that this man either had to be just plan crazy or he had to be incredibly brave.  
  
She followed him to the edge of town and the two never said a word to each other since. That was until they reached a hillside where they saw the orange blaze of a campfire.  
  
Gun Grave wrapped the chains around his waist, as he crawled on his stomach on the rocky slope. His cat clung to his back with his claws while Marshall Maryanne climbed alongside of him. The two of them could feel the sharp bumps in the rocks as they climbed up the slopes. They came to the summit and found the most diabolical of atmospheres.  
  
They saw the Big Brother Gang and The Nebraska Family laughing as a naked Miss Stephanie was trying to escape them. She was hopping from one foot to the other, the light of the fire showed blood spots in the dirt.  
  
Stephanie's feet were cut from all those sharp rocks, she tried to escape them but she couldn't since her arms kept trying to cover herself up. She was still wet from her shower and she looked terrible with her hair  
  
"Let me go!" She cried pitifully as she still tried to cover up her naked body. She kept running from one side of the fire to the other only encountering even worse people.  
  
"Give me some clothes, please!" Her tears were evident as they ran down her face.  
  
"I'll give you clothes." Professor Nebraska said being the old leach that he was, "If you do something for me."  
  
Miss Stephanie screamed like she did back at the Inn, that same piteous cry that sounded like a teakettle boiling. Gun Grave finally knew what to do. He brought his cat up beside his face.  
  
"Kuroneko." He spoke to the cat, "Stay here, understand?"  
  
"Nyaoo." The cat meowed softly.  
  
"Good." Gun Grave smiled as he turned to the Marshall, "I want you to stay here too." He said.  
  
"What?" Maryanne asked, "Why? I have a job to do and I'm going down there."  
  
"I'm sorry." Gun Grave stated, "But only I can do this, you'd just get in the way."  
  
"I'm going." Maryanne was about to get to her feet, but Gun Grave brought his hand to the back of her neck and knocked her out.  
  
It wasn't a huge tap, this one would only last for a few minutes, which was more than he would need to do his deed. He took his coffin, held it and took one last look at the carnival atmosphere that Miss Stephanie was trapped in.  
  
He looked back at his furry companion who looked at him with the same look of disappointment. Gun Grave felt that the cat was disappointed at him for knocking out the Marshall.  
  
"Don't look at me like that." He said, "She would have gotten in the way." He turned over and slid down the rocky hillside to the bottom. He unwrapped the chains of his coffin and slung it over his neck.  
  
With the coffin on his shoulder he made his way to the campsite. His boots crushing the balls of dirt under his feet and the screaming of Miss Stephanie still drawing closer and closer like coming to a ringing telephone.  
  
At last the members of the Big Brother Gang and the Nebraska Family was in sight. He knew that his telepathic powers couldn't reach that many people, only a few people. He decided to only make himself known silently. He came closer and then his plan was realized when Professor Nebraska who was sitting in Gofsef's enormous pocket noticed the gunslinger.  
  
"Hey!" He shouted, "We got company!"  
  
Everyone turned to look at the strange man and it gave a long enough distraction that the naked Miss Stephanie ran into his arms ever so gingerly as her feet still felt the sharp stones in the sand and dirt. She ran behind him finally covering herself up from all the perverts within the campsite.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Professor Nebraska asked in such a snippy voice he sounded like a disappointed two-year-old, "you spoiled our fun we were having with that girl." Gun Grave moved his lips and spoke to the Professor, "I am the 14th Gung-Ho Gun, Gun Grave the Undead. I've come back to take back Miss Stephanie and kill all of you."  
  
The Professor only gazed at the stranger and then began to laugh. It was a cackle that was like a crow's caw. The Professors head slammed back against his enormous son's chest, he slapped his hand on his forehead, and his jaw wide open exposing his three teeth.  
  
"You kill us?" He asked as he calmed down from his laughing fit, "you must be crazier than me! Not even Vash the Stampede was that crazy. I think I'll teach you a lesson stranger, using this technique." He snapped his fingers and his enourmous son got up on his feet the weight of this monster made the ground shake beneath him.  
  
"Daddy!" Patricia cried, "Let us take care of him. It's not fair that you get all the fun!" Patricia truly acted her part since her hair was bleach blonde and her clothes accented how much she thought of herself, which was very highly.  
  
"No!" the Professor shouted, "I'm going to use my human mince meat special course!"  
  
With that order Gosef's right hand began to spin round and round like a piece of wood on a lathe. Yet, Gun Grave never moved from his spot. He simply stood there like the man he was and soon his abilities would be shown to the Nebraska family.  
  
"Not going to move?" The professor asked,  
  
"Good, that means less work!"  
  
Gun Grave reached Stephanie's mind, "Hide, now!"  
  
Stephanie didn't ask she dashed away from the scene as members of the Nebraska family and the Big Brother Gang got down. They knew what this attack was like and it certainly wasn't going to be very pretty. BOOM!  
  
The spinning fist of Gofsef Nebraska launched out at Gun Grave. IT was only a short distance between the two of them.  
  
However, to Gun Grave, nothing could touch him. Not even the powerful fist of Gofsef Nebraska could graze the 14th Gung-Ho Gun. He waited for the fist to be near him before giving the command. It was only within a matter of milliseconds before his word was spoken.  
  
"Bullet time!" he said as everything around him froze. The fire flames motionless like pieces of paper standing upright. The people still like mannequins in a department store and Gofsef's fist only an inch away from Gun Grave's nose.  
  
He looked around and saw everything and thought about how this would go. Of course the first target he thought would only be Gofsef and his father Professor Nebraska. With the target picked the only tough choice to make was what attack to use on the sick bastards.  
  
He stepped to the part of the campsite that had the cliff-face and there he saw that a line to the rest of his arm connected the fist of Gofsef Nebraska and then Gun Grave thought of an attack. He brought up his coffin to his shoulder and popped out the scope and targeted the fist.  
  
"Deathblow!" He shouted in his mind and the rocket fired out at his fist as he came out of Bullet time to watch the effects of it all.  
  
"URRR!" Gofsef moaned as the rocket hit his fist and sent it flying into the rocks away from the campsite.  
  
Professor Nebraska looked out in disbelief and tried to recall what happened. It was as if the stranger named Gun Grave had vanished like a fart in the wind. Though the only remaining question he had was where was he. He voice the question in a profaine manner.  
  
"Where the hell are you!?" He demanded Gun Grave sent the message, "I'm over here pinhead."  
  
Professor Nebraska looked and found the stranger leaning casually against the cliffface. From those who went for cover, up came Marilyn Nebraska who paraded herself and offered her weapon.  
  
"How about now, daddy?" She asked, "Can I try now?"  
  
Then another voice called in, "No, how about me!?" It was the leader of the Big Brother gang, he came out with his gun. It looked more like a cannon that had a belt of bullets connected to it. Pressing the release button the cannon flowered open into several barrels of the same gun.  
  
"A piece of advice," he laughed, "Always save your best for last." He cackled again as he knew that no one could survive his gun. He pulled the trigger that sent the bullets flying in nearly every direction but all the bullets were for Gun Grave.  
  
"Bullet time!" Gun Grave stated as he saw all the bullets slow down and become frozen in time like insects in amber. He stepped though the frozen hailstorm of bullets to get behind the man only known as Big Brother.  
  
He got behind him and allowed time to come back up to speed. The bullets hit the cliff-face sending out dust and sand so much that no one could see if the man was being hit or not. Big Brother waited until the dust settled and found nothing there.  
  
"Where did he go?!" He asked looking from left to right.  
  
Silently, Gun Grave took out his guns and shoved them into the back of Big Brother. He whispered telepathically to him knowing that this man like the others was a pervert and that he was doing a great service by killing him.  
  
"By the way," he whispered, "I didn't use my ace." Gun Grave pulled the trigger sending the bullet through Big Brothers chest and bringing down one enemy.  
  
The whole camp watched in disbelief as one man had taken on some of the most dangerous criminals in all of Gunsmoke.  
  
Even the Big Brother Gang, they watched as their beloved leader fell to the ground with his gun still in his hand. All of their hearts were breaking as they ran up to their beloved leader.  
  
Gun Grave spoke to the gang since there were only a few and he could manage speaking telepathically to them, "I felt that I should keep the rest of you alive." He said,  
  
"In order to bury him."  
  
"You bastard!" One man shouted, it was the man who was bald and had the star-shaped tattoo on his forehead. He brought out a knife and came up to Gun Grave with it drawn out ready to cut. Gun Grave felt the he was just walking into death as he ran up to it.  
  
He simply brought out his black gun and shot him. The bullet went right between his eyebrows and came out the back of his head.  
  
"Whose next?" Gun Grave asked himself  
  
"It's my turn!" Marilyn Nebraska shouted,  
  
"Mom, Chinpei, Tonkachi, and Kanta attack him. We shall kill him in honor of our brother and father in our most beautiful style!"  
  
Gun Grave felt sick of this woman. She gave him that same tacky sick feeling that Brilliant Dynamites Neon gave him. She too looked tacky, like Brittany Spears claiming to be a virgin in Victoria Secret underwear.  
  
Gun Grave looked to see three oddly shaped men transform into spinning balls like Sonic the Hedgehog right before he bursts out with speed. Gun Grave had heard of the things the Nebraska Family could do and now he was going to counter it as easily as turning a knob.  
  
"ATTACK!" Marilyn shouted as the three balls of doom fired out at him.  
  
"Bullet time." Gun Grave said again he watched as the man-spheres were frozen, this time four targets were there. Including the enormous woman who looked like a female version of Gofsef. She too looked tacky, like a female weightlifter on steroids.  
  
With four targets in his sight as well as the remaining members of the Big Brother Gang, he knew just the attack to use. He set down his coffin by the cliff-face and came to the center of the campsite with both guns in his hands.  
  
Everything was in place, he held his guns to his chest and began the attack. He held them out in 180 degrees apart from each other.  
  
"Raging Inferno!" he called and began to dance in every direction like the Native American dances that are shown on the History or Discovery Channel.  
  
He sent out bullets in every 360-degree angle each one hitting their target consecutively. The only one that he didn't kill was Marilyn Nebraska; the kill for her would be special. Like the kill he made for Brilliant Dynamites Neon back on the Sand Steamer.  
  
The Raging Inferno was done on the ground, it was time for the second and final part of this gruesome onslaught. He jumped up into the air, still in Bullet time and fired every bullet his finger could pull from his guns down to the ground like a deadly hailstorm.  
  
Slowly he came back out of Bullet Time and the chaos he had inflicted was atrocious. Every member of the Nebraska Family and the Big Brother Gang was dead. Except for one person, Marilyn Nebraska, this kill would be his sweetest.  
  
To put an end of her tackiness, she tried to run. She ran down the hillside, sliding down it, getting the dirt and stones up her skirt, tearing at her pantyhose and underwear.  
  
She got back up feeling the searing pain under her skirt, looking back at the orange glow of the campfire and the silhouettes of bodies that used to be her family.  
  
She turned around and there was the 14th Gung-Ho Gun, Gun Grave the Undead. She shrieked as she fell back onto her ass in the dirt and sand.  
  
"You look just fine down there." Gun Grave smiled wickedly, "Down there in the dirt, sand and filth." He brought up his gun to her forehead, as the muzzle was pressed against her head she was weeping like a little girl with a skinned knee.  
  
"Why? Why are you doing this? We wouldn't have killed her." Marilyn's tears streaked her face just like Stephanie before her.  
  
It truly was ironic that she switched places with her victim, but now she was justifying what she and her gang did. "We only wanted the money." She sobbed, "We weren't going to kill her. We just wanted money."  
  
"Materialism." Gun Grave said still holding the gun at Marilyn,  
  
"Such a human frailty. Your tacky clothes signify that."  
  
"Please, don't kill me." Marilyn continued to sob.  
  
"Sorry." Gun Grave said as he pulled the trigger. It was the loudest since he didn't use this shot during bullet time, the sound echoed across the desert valleys all around sending its feedback to its source.  
  
Strange, he thought, it was the first time that he ever apologized to his victim before killing them. Yet, this one was the only one he was interested in.  
  
He needed her fluids, especially after using all those Bullet Times recently. He went around from corpse to corpse draining them of their bodily fluids. Though the only usable ones were Marilyn Nebraska as well as the members of the Big Brother Gang.  
  
The rest of the Nebraska family were too mechanical to provide any fluid useful enough.  
  
Gun Grave came back to the sight where he left his cat, and there was Marshall Maryanne and Miss Stephanie who was clothed in the Marshall's red coat.  
  
The two of them looked at Gun Grave in a shocked manner as he placed his furry companion back into his coffin. He raised his hat at the ladies.  
  
"My work is done here." He said  
  
"Wait." The Marshall stopped him, "I was just told of what you did to the dead bodies down there. You really are a sick man. Not only that but you've killed these people. That makes you more of a monster than they are."  
  
"Who's the bigger monster?" Gun Grave asked, "the killer or the killer who kills killers?"  
  
"That's not the point, the point is you committed first degree murder."  
  
"I got Miss Stephanie back didn't I?" Miss Stephanie could hear Gun Grave telepathic voice, "That's true Marshall he did save my life despite what he did with them. I'll explain things to my daddy he'll understand."  
  
"Regardless." The Marshall said coldly, "I'm going to have to arrest you sir, whatever your name is."  
  
"I am the 14th Gung-Ho Gun, Gun Grave the Undead." He stated, "Before you arrest me, take a good look at the criminals bodies. They'll be more like that if you attempt to do so."  
  
"I don't care." She said, "You're under arrest for multiple counts of first degree murder, Gun Grave!"  
  
"Bullet time!" Gun Grave said.  
  
It was an unusual word that he said but in that instant in front of Marshall Maryanne and Miss Stephanie Bowstock, Gun Grave was gone.  
  
To be continued 


	5. The Spreading News

TRIGUN: GunGrave  
  
By ShadowHawk & Turles  
  
Disclaimer: We do not own the copyrights to Trigun, or any other copyrighted information. All Copyrights belong to their respective owners.  
  
Trigun: Gun Grave  
  
Chapter 5: The Spreading News  
  
Far away from any major city or big town was a small village a few yars away from L and R town. This was the place where the outlaw and gunslinger Vash the Stampede lived with his brother Millions Knives, his girlfriend Meryl Strife (a.k.a. Derringer Meryl), and his friends, Millie Thompson (a.k.a. Stun-gun Millie) and Nicholas D. Wolfwood. It was true that Wolfwood had lived. The surprise he gave his friends really did send a lot of them up the wall, even Millie Thompson who grew to love Nicholas. At first she slapped him lightly then she started to hug and kiss him saying how wonderful it was to see him again. It was one of those moments that Wolfwood thought, "Lord, help me try to understand women."  
  
Then came the explanation of how and why Nicholas D. Wolfwood survived. It was a tense time because he had to reveal a secret about himself that he didn't even want Vash the Stampede himself to know. That night around the table with a few drinks in his system, Nicholas finally coughed up the truth.  
  
"I'm a plant." He said, he said it so flatly that it didn't seem to sink in as well with Meryl or Millie. The only one, who really understood what Nicholas was saying, was Vash himself. He knew what it meant. Vash the Stampede himself is a plant too, meaning that he's a genetically enhanced human being, which would explain several things, his long life, telepathy, as well as his extraordinary gunman-ship. A plant referred to the enormous power plants that are within each city, but within these power plants exists a being of extraordinary abilities. And it's from these abilities that power can be harnessed and be used.  
  
Ever since Nicholas dropped the bomb on what his truth was, suddenly everything made sense. When Vash the Stampede met Nicholas D. Wolfwood in the desert on the way to Mei City he watched as Wolfwood gave up his own scraps of food to children. Vash could only smile at the kind gesture that Wolfwood had made, but then Wolfwood said that Vash looked like a troubled man. "You're hurting like crazy on the inside" he said, "but you smile and bear it." It was so simple, since Wolfwood was a plant; he read Vash's mind. Along with the fact that he could life that heavy Cross-Punisher of his even with his skinny body. As well as the fact that he could take in so much alcohol and not come out with a hangover. It truly made sense to Vash that Nicholas D. Wolfwood was a plant himself.  
  
Though it didn't exactly matter to Millie, she still loved him no matter what he was or what he did. Then again, when a person is loved that much, does it really matter what they are? Soon, time had passed. Months had gone by and since then things have quieted down considerably, though Vash has been keeping a close eye on his brother Knives. From the point of view of his friends the two of them would speak to each other without saying a single word. Wolfwood understood what was going on between those two, their brethren are of a kind much beyond human understanding. Even with these two, it goes back over a century, needless to say they had to resolve their differences. It appeared that Knives and Vash were getting along well and life was becoming peaceful.  
  
The month was November, on Earth the month of November brings fall and a time to prepare for winter. On Gunsmoke, it doesn't matter what month it is. Everyday is the same, like an endless dry summer. Yet on this day, the dry winds of Gunsmoke were blowing across the steps of the porch where Vash the Stampede sat. He sat in his casual shirt and pants that were provided to him, in the next chair to him was his friend Nicholas D. Wolfwood who was enjoying another crumpled cigarette from his coat pocket. Meryl and Millie were out shopping for ingredients for that night's dinner. As a matter of fact they were preparing a special kind of chili for Vash and Wolfwood. From the way life was with the four of them, one could almost swear that they were married. Then again, with Wolfwood's position as a priest he could easily arrange all of it.  
  
Vash leaned back and breathed in the air, "You know Wolfwood?" He asked, "It just doesn't get any better than this."  
  
Wolfwood grinned with his cigarette in his mouth, "I'll drink to that." He reached down to his side and pulled up a bottle of Jack Daniel's, took out his cigarette and took a nice big swig of it. He brought back the bottle down and wiped his face, "That's the stuff. I wonder where those girls are, they sure are taking their time aren't they?"  
  
Vash looked at Wolfwood with his blue eyes, "To our kind Wolfwood, time really doesn't matter."  
  
Wolfwood shrugged, "You have a point there, it does make me wonder how long I'll live."  
  
Vash only thought, "With the way your going I'd say it wouldn't be long."  
  
"Hey, I heard that!" Wolfwood said sitting up, his fist near his chest.  
  
Vash sheepishly grinned, "Sorry." He said, "Forgot you could read minds."  
  
"And don't you forget it."  
  
Suddenly a scream came from the streets ahead of them. Vash and Wolfwood jumped out of their rocking chairs to hear who it was. They both knew that voice, it was the voice of Meryl Strife. There was no time to stand and ask questions, the two gunmen took the streets. The dashed in the direction of the scream, they ran until their veins pumped oxidized blood, and their hearts were ready to burst. They came to the small bar, where a small satellite was stationed. This was the only way that this small village could maintain any contact or any kind of communication with the outside world. It was also here that the radio could pick up any kind of news. It was in that bar from the window that Vash and Wolfwood found their loved ones, Meryl and Millie. The two of them had the groceries on the table but were huddled around the radio. They came in through the door- less entry and were about to ask questions about the scream but then they heard the broadcast.  
  
"I repeat, reports are coming from everywhere of a strange man wandering the desert. This man has been described to be very dark, wearing a large hat, one cyborg eye, and carrying a coffin. He's been calling himself "Gun Grave the Undead". Reports have been coming into my desk of the deaths this man has caused. From Little Jersey he's been reported to kill people in the streets with incredible speed and extremely deadly force. Onboard a Sand Steamer heading for Warren City he's been documented to the killing of the entire Badland thieves as well as their leader a man who has been called Brilliant Dynamites Neon. This man has also been confirmed to be responsible for the deaths of the entire Nebraska Family as well as the Big Brother Gang who had recently tried to kidnap the daughter of the very rich, Mr. Bowstock. Authorities are not quite sure of what to do with this man of whether to place a bounty on his head or declare him a public hero. Updates will be made, that's all for now." Vash looked to the girls at the far end of the room who were huddled around the radio. Then he turned his attention like a radar dish over to Wolfwood whose eyes were wide with fear. Vash knew that look of fear in anyone, it's the same type of look someone pulls when they turn the wrong corner and are about to hit an oncoming truck. When that happens, they pull a stupid face, and their life doesn't flash in front of their eyes 'cause their too damn scared to think. That's the face Wolfwood had. He only breathed his next sentence.  
  
"Oh no." He whispered yet it was loud enough for Vash to hear, "it's him."  
  
Later that night back at the at the place where Vash and his friends were staying they all gathered around the kitchen table to discuss the news they heard. Many families have these kinds of discussions, they usually happen either in the family room or a kitchen. Any kind of room that they come into the most often or rather any room that has a large enough table for all of them. Yet, at this meeting the only one who wasn't included was Knives, because this concerns his past and only Wolfwood knew the answer to it.  
  
Vash stood up in his seat, "You know something about this, don't you Wolfwood?"  
  
Meryl reached up to her loves sleeve, "Calm down Vash, he said he was going to explain so lets give him some time to explain."  
  
Vash looked down at Meryl who smiled at him and he backed down.  
  
"Thank you." Wolfwood said, "Back when I was in the Gung-Ho Guns, Chapel the Evergreen, my teacher, told me about someone within the group called Gun Grave the Undead. Though the details of who he was, how he was brought into the group and his abilities were a mystery. It's almost like the group had him kept away like a secret weapon to use."  
  
"Against me?" Vash asked  
  
"It could be." Wolfwood answered, "That was the reason for the creation of the Gung-Ho Guns for revenge against you."  
  
"If all of this is revenge against Vash," Meryl speculated, "then its safe to assume that this Gun Grave will be coming after Vash?"  
  
Wolfwood was silent and he only nodded in his answer.  
  
"Then we must run." Meryl said quickly  
  
Vash shook his head, "No, I've run away once before and I'm not doing it again. I'll stand my ground against this last Gung-Ho Gun."  
  
"But," Meryl came to Vash's side with the welts of tears in her eyes. She saw Vash once badly injured because of a Gung-Ho Gun named Legato Bluesummers, and she couldn't bare to see him go through that again. "You know what will happen if you go up against him."  
  
"I know that." Vash answered, "But it outweighs my alternative to run."  
  
"I have to agree with Vash." Wolfwood added, "We must stay and fight him head to head. I'm certainly not going to run with my tail between my legs."  
  
"Then it's agreed." Vash smiled.  
  
* * *  
  
Thousands of yarz away, the enormous Humpback class Sand Steamer rolled on through the desert. Onboard it carried a great array of passengers, one of them was a man that the entire planet of Gunsmoke didn't know whether to call him a hero or an outlaw. The man known as the 14th Gung-Ho Gun, Gun Grave the Undead. He was here traveling on his own, but little did he know of who else was here, at least until he ran into them.  
  
He found out that the person he saved was here. The young beautiful brunet, Ms. Stephanie Bowstock was here on the Sand Steamer with him. She had also brought along her father and the Marshall named Maryanne. They were here, though to Gun Grave he wasn't sure if they were here purely be coincidence or if they were following him (perhaps stalking him). Though at the time that Mr. Bowstock (a.k.a. Grim Reaper Bowstock) met Gun Grave he was a little shocked to actually meet this man. He was enormous compared to him, he almost looked like some kind of dark giant and with a black cat on his shoulder. Mr. Bowstock didn't know if he should be afraid of Gun Grave or laugh at him. Then again he thought that laughing at him would be a bad choice, so he proceeded to ask his proposal.  
  
"I have a proposition for you." He asked of Gun Grave  
  
Gun Grave moved his lips and spoke in his mind, "Go ahead."  
  
"I am here with my daughter, Stephanie." He explained, "She was the girl whom you saved from the Nebraska Family and the Big Brother Gang. I want you to keep a special eye on her during this trip."  
  
"How much are you willing to pay me?" Gun Grave asked  
  
"$100,000 double dollars." Mr. Bowstock said, "the price will triple if you can guard her as far as L and R town."  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"There is one thing, your not allowed to touch her."  
  
"I understand." It was a good thing that Stephanie wasn't around to hear this proposal, otherwise she would have made an enormous protest about it. Then again with the Marshall here, she might have been used as a chaperone between Gun Grave and Ms. Stephanie Bowstock to make sure that nothing happens between the two. Who would have guessed what would happen later that night?  
  
Gun Grave sat on the bed with his coffin at his side and Kuroneko sitting on top of it looking towards the door. Just next door was Ms. Stephanie's room, hopefully if anything were to happen Gun Grave could get there in an instant. Though what Ms. Stephanie planned was something a little different.  
  
To Ms. Stephanie, she had developed a feeling for Gun Grave, she couldn't exactly figure out what it was at first. Especially since she was trying to recover from the experience she had with her captors. She remembered how the Big Brother Gang kidnapped her from her shower like monsters in a fairy tale. She was forced to stand in front of them in her nakedness not being allowed to have one strip of clothing or shoes to protect her feet from the rocky ground. That was until Gun Grave came along, he killed them all to set her free and from that she felt something for this strange gunman. Then when she found him there on the Sand Steamer she fell in love with him, she never felt that kind of love for any other kind of man. On the other hand, Gun Grave wasn't like any other kind of man.  
  
Knowing the kind of strict rules her father placed on her bodyguard (as Gun Grave became), she found a way to get passed it. Later that night when her father was asleep she sneaked over to her bodyguards' room. All the doors within the Sand Steamer were made of steel so she carefully knocked.  
  
Inside Gun Grave room, he wasn't sitting on his bed like he was earlier. His clothes were laid out upon the bed nearly as if his body had turned to smoke and he sneaked out of them. His coffin still at the side of his bed with his cat still sitting there perched like a raven in Edgar Allen Poe poem.  
  
The only sound was coming from the bathroom with the sound of running water. The shower was running, and Gun Grave was in it. The water ran over his body and amazingly enough his undead body didn't react adversly to the hot water. Thanks to all the precious bodily fluids he could collect he was able to keep himself in tact.  
  
As he stood in the shower he heard a knock at the door. In his mind he reached out to see who was at his door. It was Ms. Stephanie Bowstock, the very woman whom he was hired to protect, but why was she at his door. He spoke out with his mind but numbed his mental voice to make it sound like he was calling from inside the room.  
  
"Come in." He called The steel made door opened and in walked Miss Stephanie who had come over in her silky white nightdress and her hair all flowing down with no restraints. She walked in stepping gingerly, she saw the clothes on her bodyguards bed and the cat who stared up at her with its big yellow eyes.  
  
"Nyaoo." It said at her.  
  
"Oh." Stephanie said, "hello, kitty." She came over to the cat and began to pet it. The cat came up to meet Stephanie's hand as if he was saying, "who loves kitty? You love kitty?" Stephanie continued to pet and tickle the cats' chin that she didn't hear the sound of the water tuning off. She then heard a voice say,  
  
"I see you found my cat." Miss Stephanie spun her head around and looked towards the bathroom and there was Gun Grave standing naked and moist from the hot water. Apparently he probably dried himself off in the shower and didn't bother to cover himself up. Then again with only him in this room why would he? He looked down at Miss Stephanie not caring to cover himself up at all.  
  
To Ms. Stephanie, nothing like this had ever happened before in her entire life. She was witnessing first hand what a real man looks like underneath his clothes. She had to admit to herself that she felt a little bit aroused by all of this yet she looked to Gun Grave's chest and she felt shock. Within his chest were several bullet hole scars that were already deep brown from the scar tissue. His hair was long and black that came down to his shoulders that was still wet from the shower and his eye. His left eye was a metallic bionic eye. She raised her hands and covered her mouth as if she was about to scream but nothing came out.  
  
Gun Grave moved his lips, "Why are you here?" Stephanie came back to the question that she heard, "I came to see you. I never properly thanked you for saving my life."  
  
"I did what had to be done." Gun Grave stated never moving from his spot  
  
Ms. Stephanie rose to her feet and approached her bodyguard trying to take her eyes away from his nudity and look into his face.  
  
"You don't understand." She said, "when you saved me, it was the first time that anyone had done anything of that great kindness to me. As a child I was selfish, spoiled and disobedient. Yet, without my mother I was never told what a true woman should feel. Then you came to me and now I understand it."  
  
Gun Grave felt confused as well as an unusual sensation in his chest. His heart was beating abnormally fast, but why?  
  
"What is it that you understand?" He asked  
  
Slowly, Miss Stephanie Bowstock brought up her hand to the strings that held her nightdress to her body. One strap came away from her shoulder and the other allowed the dress to fall around her ankles. She stood in front of Gun Grave in the same state of nakedness that he was. Now they were even, she saw him now he could see her.  
  
"What I understand." Ms. Stephanie said, "is that I love you."  
  
Gun Grave raised his arms and wrapped them around her. The feeling of bare skin against another was the most unusual of feelings for either  
  
Gun Grave or Miss Stephanie to feel. As the two of them held each other, Gun Grave looked out to his coffin where his cat sat. He looked at him with his enormous yellow eyes as if warning him of the consequences that might happen from the action he would take. Yet the cat closed his eyes, got up on all fours, made one turn on the coffin and laid down to go to sleep.  
  
Gun Grave felt an even better private feeling knowing that the cat wouldn't be watching, he took Miss Stephanie in his arms like a prince charming taking the princess to the tower. He brought her to the bed, and with one swipe the shoved all his clothes to the floor to make way for his love and himself in this bed. The two of them crawled under the cool sheets like little children at a sleepover. Then they kissed each other and under the stars, the glow of the moons and even the third red moon that had the hole chiseled into it, Gun Grave the Undead and Miss Stephanie Bowstock knew love in its most raw, purest, and more splendid form.  
  
To be continued. 


	6. Half past Noon

TRIGUN: GunGrave  
  
Chapter 6: Half past Noon  
  
By ShadowHawk & Turles  
  
Disclaimer: We do not own the copyrights to Trigun, or any other copyrighted information. All Copyrights belong to their respective owners.  
  
The Sand Steamer rolled into town, a small little hamlet called "L and R Town". The town was set against a set of rocky hills that shadowed the town when the twin suns would set slowly in the west. Though the town wasn't as big as Mei City or any of those larger places. It was just a quaint little town like any other kind of town out of a Western or Louis Lamoure Novel. Compared to the town, the enormous Humpback class Sand Steamer looked like an eyesore since it dwarfed all the other buildings around it. Yet, it wasn't what the Steamer was, it was what passengers it carried that would carry out the course of events in that day.  
  
From the gangplank that extended down from the Sand Steamer came the man only known as Gun Grave, at his side was his love (as well as his job), Miss Stephanie Bowstock. Behind them were Marshall Maryanne and Mr. Bowstock (Stephanie's father). They came down the steps to the town itself.  
  
Gun Grave met with Mr. Bowstock, "I've done my duty, Mr. Bowstock."  
  
Mr. Bowstock looked very unnerved, then again that's how he always looked. He looked up at the dark stranger known only as Gun Grave and held up his end of the bargain. In his hands he held an enormous suitcase made of black leather. He held on its side to display what was inside, he clicked it open and displayed all the double-dollars that were inside.  
  
"As I had promised, triple the fee if we make it to L and R town." Mr. Bowstock repeated his deal, "It's all here 300,000 double dollars. If you want to count it, I will not be offended. I'm grateful that my daughter has made it in one piece."  
  
"Just doing my duty." Gun Grave said as he took the suitcase. Little did Mr. Bowstock know of what had transgressed between him and Miss Stephanie last night. It was a good thing that they were never found out at all.  
  
"Where do you plan to go from here?" Miss Stephanie asked the dark stranger.  
  
"There's a little village just a few miles away from here." Gun Grave explained, "There's someone I intend to meet there."  
  
"An old friend?" Marshall Maryanne asked  
  
Gun Grave stared right at the Marshall, "You could say that."  
  
From behind Gun Grave suddenly heard a rumble of arguments.  
  
"He's only a few miles away from this town!" A big gruff voice said  
  
"Very well, then we'll follow your lead." This voice was smaller but was still a mans voice, "But if it's wrong, we'll find Vash the Stampede my way."  
  
Through the telepathy that Gun Grave had he knew that there was a group of bounty hunters here and they were going after Vash the Stampede themselves. If they were successful then his mission would be a failure both to the Gung-Ho Guns and to himself for finding no clues to his past. Just then as he thought that he should be the first one out of town a voice called out.  
  
"Hey is that him?" the big gruff voice said, "The guy that they talked about on the radio. The one who was said to have killed the Nebraska family?"  
  
"Oh no." Miss Stephanie uttered as she clung to her fathers' side.  
  
"Hey you!" A voice called out to Gun Grave, "turn around!"  
  
Gun Grave turned around and saw who was talking to him. The first thing that caught his eye was an enormous man of nearly 12 feet tall who had a green Mohawk, a red coat, long earrings, short legs, one metallic arm and a boomerang like weapon on his back. At this enormous mans feet were tons of henchmen all having red bandanas around their necks. The only one who wasn't was a blonde man who was carrying what looked like a rifle on his back and in the slow wind Gun Grave could see a red liner in his coat.  
  
"Yeah, that's him." The enormous man said, "Hey, Ruth? Didn't they say there was a bounty on this guy?"  
  
The blonde man, that Gun Graves deduced was named Ruth said, "Yeah, I heard that they posted a 300,000,000 double dollar bounty on his head."  
  
"I knew that someone would want to put a bounty on my head." Gun Grave thought.  
  
"Hey, death-man!" The enormous man asked, "Aren't you going to say something?"  
  
Gun Grave reached out in his mind and moved his lips, "I'd like to know whom I'm dealing with first."  
  
"My name is Descartes and these are my henchmen." The enormous man introduced himself, "And that man over there is called Loose Ruth a.k.a. Constance Rifle." He pointed to the man with the enormous rifle and blonde hair.  
  
One of the henchmen called up to Descartes, "Hey boss, who are you talking to?"  
  
Descartes enormous face looked down in displeasure he picked up his henchman by the head in his metallic hand, "I'm talking to that dark man over there, you shmuck!"  
  
"You should talk." Gun Grave said sarcastically.  
  
Descartes dropped his henchmen, "What the hell did you say, stranger?"  
  
"I said, you should talk." Gun Grave explained, "You're a shmuck to think that you can just take me in."  
  
Marshall Maryanne had to step in since it was her civic duty, "Please everyone, let's not resort to violence. I'm a Marshall."  
  
"Ooh." Descartes said feigning his fear, "ooh, I'm so scared, the Marshall is here."  
  
Gun Grave spoke to the Marshall, "Maryanne." He said, "Take the Bowstock family and get as far away from me as you can. They plan to capture me, but I'm not going to allow that. Please get them away from here."  
  
"What about you?" Maryanne asked concerned.  
  
"Don't worry about me, I've done my duty up to this point, and now its come down to a matter of survival."  
  
"I understand." Maryanne said as she took the hands of both Mr. Bowstock and Stephanie away from the scene. Stephanie tried to fight but it was no use against the strength of the Marshall. And with the Bowstock family and Maryanne out of the way, Gun Grave could now fight the way he wants to fight. Though the sight of all the people made him have a second thought of conscience, he knew that he had to fight away from the city if he doesn't want any unnecessary deaths on his hands. With a free hand he opened the coffin and out popped his cat.  
  
He whispered to it, "Kuroneko, I'm going to fight so please get away too. I'll meet up with you later."  
  
"Nyao" Kuroneko meowed as he rubbed against Gun Grave's cheek and hopped down and dashed away.  
  
"That was probably the most screwed up thing I have ever seen." Descartes said in disgust, "A man who kills has a cat in his possession."  
  
Gun Grave stuck the suitcase full of money in his coffin while it popped out the Cerberus guns from their secondary exit. He held up the silver and dark silver guns.  
  
"If you want me, come and claim me yourselves." Gun Grave dared his enemies as he dashed away through the narrow alleyways of L and R town. As Gun Grave dashed he heard the raised shouts of the bounty hunters behind him.  
  
"After him, you bastards!" The voice of Descartes proclaimed and the firing of guns followed.  
  
"Foolish humans." Gun Grave thought, "They're still willing to walk into death." He could have made it a whole lot easier by using Bullet Time but that wouldn't achieve his goal. And that goal was simply to lead this gang of bounty hunters into the desert for a better fight.  
  
Eventually he came out of the alleyway and into the hot open desert. The twin suns blazed overhead. The coffin was at his sides, held by the chains and both his Cerberus guns in his hands. He was ready to fight and now to lead the sheep to their slaughter. He reached out in his mind to send the telepathic message to Descartes and his gang. "I'm out here, jackass!" He shouted  
  
He lay in wait like a snake waiting of the mouse to come to him. He watched them come out of the city like ants and in his minds ear he heard music. An old song that would get the undead blood in his veins pumping like oil through an engine.  
  
Dead I am the one, Exterminating son  
  
Slipping through the trees, strangling the breeze  
  
Dead I am the sky, watching angels cry  
  
As they slowly turn, conquering the worm  
  
Dig through the ditches, Burn through the witches I slam in the back of my Dragula  
  
Dig through the ditches, Burn through the witches I slam in the back of my Dragula  
  
They came closer; all of them were loading and cocking their weapons ready to fire at their precious bounty-head. Gun Grave stayed still with both guns in his hands as he tightened his grip on their steel handles. He felt their presence circling them as their leaders Decartes and Loose Ruth come up to his frong.  
  
"This might be the easiest bounty we've ever collected." Descartes smiled, "Eh, Ruth?"  
  
"I agree." Loose Ruth said as he took out his rifle, to Gun Grave it looked like a brilliant design. Twin barrels stacked on top of each other and twin cartridge casings on either side of the gun. That way when the gun is cocked the bullets keep firing, like a manually driven gattling gun.  
  
But Gun Grave heard the song in his head.  
  
Dead I am the pool, spreading from the fool  
  
Weak and want you need, nowhere as you bleed  
  
Dead I am the rat, feast upon the cat  
  
Tender is the fur, dying as you purr  
  
Dig through the ditches, Burn through the witches I slam in the back of my Dragula  
  
"You can't go after Vash the Stampede." Gun Grave announced  
  
"And why not?" Descartes asked  
  
"I have more right to see him than for a mere bounty."  
  
"Whatever." Descartes said apathetically.  
  
"Again." He said with his mind reaching out to all the gang members, "Don't be so sure that you'll take me in or even kill me." He was smiling again, "All of you really are shmucks, if you listened to those reports on me, you know that I won't be easy to kill. Brilliant Dynamites Neon, died on his back and so did the Big Brother Gang with the Nebraska Family. All you humans walk so easily and willingly into deaths grip."  
  
"I've had enough!" Descartes said as he hooked up his boomerang. The way it would work is that as he would through it he would hit a button at his side that would pull the chord attached to the boomerang. This way it would allow the boomerang to spin a little faster than a normal throw could accomplish. The boomerang went out with a great WOOSH! It spun like a wheel that reflected the sunlight. It came within inches of Gun Grave before he made a dive backwards. The boomerang came over him and all he could see when it passed over him was its great silver color that shined with the glare of the twin suns that were beginning to set in the west. Along with the sight was the sound and feeling that the boomerang made as it passed just a few inches away from his nose. It made a thumping noise in his ears like his heart beating so fast that it could burst within his chest. Its speed made his hair swish and swirl in the motion passing him. At last in only a matter of seconds the boomerang passed him and made a pass back to its owner's hand. Gun Grave got back to his feet and saw the boomerang, he holstered both guns and brought up his coffin bringing out the missile sights. The silver disk spun in the afternoon suns and Gun Grave made the shot. The missile fired outward but its path was far ahead of the boomerang and when the two met in mid-air it exploded sending out shards of what used to be Descartes most prized weapon.  
  
The gang looked up at the raining shards of the weapon in incredible awe. As they did Gun Grave made his announcement.  
  
"I didn't get a chance to introduce myself." He said to all the gang members, "I am the 14th Gung-Ho Gun, Gun Grave the Undead. And all of you will die!"  
  
"I don't think so!" Loose Ruth said raising his rifle. He aimed for Gun Grave's chest and fired. The shot emanated throughout the desert but what they saw would shock them all. The man who had shot down Descartes favorite weapon was now down on the ground. He was sprawled out upon the sandy ground with his guns still in his hands.  
  
"Well boys." Descartes said, "Looks like the reward is ours after all, then we'll go for Vash the Stampede."  
  
The Gang rejoiced in the celebration that the man that they made a small chase of was now dead. Except for one, it was the man who actually pulled the trigger, Loose Ruth. He approached the dead body carefully. It seemed odd that such a huge bounty would be so easy to capture. In his doubt, he wanted to make sure that his victim wasn't wearing a bulletproof vest and faking his own death. He came up to the body, Gun Grave eyes were definitely closed. His eyes moved down to the chest and there he found the wound that he made in Gun Grave's chest. From the shotgun shell there were a lot of little holes from the projectiles. Yet he still had a good grip on those twin guns of his.  
  
Still holding onto his rifle, Loose Ruth kicked the side of Gun Grave. Nothing, so he definitely was dead and with that Loose Ruth celebrated with the gang since there was over 300 million double dollars to go around. But then his vision was brought back to his victims' chest. For the wounds in Gun Grave's chest were beginning to close up and heal like fast clotting blood. Gun Grave brought one of his guns up to Loose Ruth's face. He heard the next verse of the song in his head as his undead eyes turned to his victim.  
  
Dead I am the life, dig into the skin  
  
Knuckle crack the bone, 21 to win  
  
Dead I am the dog, hound of hell you cry  
  
Devil on your back, I can never die  
  
I can never die!  
  
I can never die!  
  
I can never die!  
  
I can never die!  
  
Die!  
  
"Die, Loose Ruth!" Gun Grave shouted as he pulled the trigger of his Cerberus. The sound immediately halted the happiness among the celebrating bounty hunters. They turned their attention as they found Gun Grave getting back to his feet while Loose Ruth lay on his side with half of his skull and brains scattered across the sandy ground.  
  
"You're all next." Gun Grave maliciously smiled  
  
The members of the Descartes gang rang, but their leader remained standing calling to his henchmen, "Get back here you cowards!" He shouted, "You spineless wimps!"  
  
His attention was brought back to Gun Grave who had his coffin in the position of a rocket launcher.  
  
"Deathblow!" Gun Graves shouted as he pulled the trigger sending out his missile at Descartes, the rocket went into his mouth since it was open from shock. And it exploded the back of his head like a Roman candle.  
  
"That's two down." Gun Grave said to himself, "Now for the rest."  
  
He took out his Cerberus guns and began another move. Bringing up the guns he fired carefully aimed shots at the fleeing gang members. They dropped like targets in an arcade shooting range, until the last one dropped down sending up a puff of sand and dirt into the softly blowing wind.  
  
Gun Grave set down his coffin. He opened it to take out the suitcase full of money to set back his Cerberus guns. He then opened the suitcase full of money. The single pieces of paper were blowing in the wind. He took out each bundle and went to another compartment of the coffin. This one in the actual lid in which was an empty compartment he took out the bundles of money and shoved them into that place.  
  
Until there was one last bundle of money. He looked back at the dead and back at the bundle he had in his hand. He ripped off the paper that held the double dollars together and tossed it up into the wind and allowed the money to scatter along with the dead bodies. Gun Grave took out the egg from its compartment for the ritual of draining them of their fluids.  
  
* * *  
  
Back in L and R town, Miss Stephanie, Mr. Bowstock, Marshall Maryanne and a small black cat waiting on a small bench in the town square. They waited until they saw a familiar dark figure coming up to meet them. Miss Stephanie saw that it was Gun Grave, she picked up the excess parts of her dress and ran to him. She threw her arms around his waist feeling him and knowing that he was still alive. Behind them came Marshall Maryanne and Mr. Bowstock who found that their "acquaintance" was still alive. Along with them came the little black cat, it jumped onto the coffin and clawed its way up to the broad shoulder of Gun Grave. It nuzzled his cheek seeing that he was still alive. "The deed is done." Gun Grave said  
  
"What do you plan to do now?" the Marshall asked  
  
"As I said there's a village not too far from here." Gun Grave explained, "I have to see someone there. Someone who has the answers I need."  
  
To be continued. 


	7. High Noon

Trigun: Gun Graves  
  
Chapter 7: High Noon  
  
By ShadowHawk and Turles  
  
Authors Notes: I'm really really sorry that this fic took so long to be posted, but due to virus problems that I been having for several months I had to rewrite this whole chapter from scratch. Enjoy the fic.  
  
In the small village only a few isle away from L and R town, Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Meryl Strife, and Millie Thompson huddled around the radio in the local saloon. Then again nearly everybody in town was listening in on the news of this gunslinger. A man known as Gun Graves the Undying. They listened with intent as they reported other news and then they came to the top story.  
  
The latest on the activity of the gunslinger named Gun Graves the Undying. Recently a 300,000,000 double dollar bounty was placed on his head. Though a group of bounty hunters tried to go after him in L and R town but they were met with swift and very deadly force. An advisory to all bounty hunters, if you decide to go after this man then you're crazier than going after Vash the Stampede. So, to all bounty hunters stay away from Gun Graves the Undying. Repeat, stay away from Gun Graves the Undying.  
  
Meryl turned her attention to her friends and made a startling connection.  
  
"We're only a few isles away from L and R town." Meryl said, "If he's one of the Gung-Ho Guns do you think he'll come after you?" She asked Vash this question, but Vash was seriously deep in thought.  
  
"I have a pretty strong feeling." Vash said shaking. He was shaking when he heard of the deaths of all those bounty hunters. In his mind no one should die for any reason whatsoever. "If he's come this far then I do think that he'll come here."  
  
Wolfwood rose to his feet, "In that case, we better prepare for his arrival."  
  
"Are you suggesting we fight him?" Millie asked  
  
"I'm not suggesting, I'm saying we should fight." Wolfwood answered, "It's a lot better than staying here and doing nothing. I know that you're a pacifist Vash, but I prefer to die fighting."  
  
Vash then rose to his feet, "Alright then." He said, "Let's get ready."  
  
"In that case, I'm fighting with you." Meryl smiled  
  
"No, Meryl."  
  
Meryl then pulled a really stupid face of disappointment, "Why?"  
  
"This battle's much too dangerous. If this man has killed the people that he did, then he's beyond your skill of gunman-ship. This is something for Wolfwood and me to handle."  
  
Meryl sat as she stewed with her arms crossed. It was the usual position that she would take when she stewed about anything that was bugging her in any way, shape or form. Though the deal was settled, only Vash and Wolfwood would fight this man. The two of them spent the day getting ready. Vash went from his casual clothes to wearing his long scarlet red duster. Wolfwood unsheathed his Cross-Punisher testing every part, but being careful not to fire a single shot. Vash tested his guns, his gun arm as well as his silver .45 colt long barrel.  
  
The day pasted from the morning into the afternoon. Vash and Wolfwood sat on the porch of their home waiting. Their lunch sifted in their systems as they waited. The nervousness that they had didn't help digest their lunch. It only made them feel like vomiting from the pit of their stomachs. They waited.  
  
From the distance they saw a dark spot on the horizon. As the minutes passed from the late morning into High Noon, the spot grew larger. It came down the main street that stretched out in front of the porch and into the horizon where the spot was growing larger. As the minutes passed they found out what it was. It was a carriage being pulled by a Tomas and in the carriage were several people and from Vash's superior vision he saw who they were. They were people he hadn't seen in a very long time. Marshall Maryanne, Mr. Bowstock and Stephanie Bowstock, but what where they doing here, Vash wondered.  
  
Soon the carriage stopped and it let out only three of its passengers into the local saloon like a bus stop. The only one remaining in the carriage was a dark man as soon as he dropped off his passengers he himself got off. He then pulled out something else from the carriage. To Vash and Wolfwood it looked like a coffin for a child. Then from that coffin out came a cat that jumped down to the street allowing the dark man to continue. The dark man carried this coffin over to the porch where Vash and Wolfwood sat.  
  
"You must be Gun Graves the Undying." Wolfwood said as the man came closer.  
  
Gun Graves smiled as he moved his lips and spoke through his mind, "I see that I now have a reputation that's proceeding me."  
  
"Did you kill all those people?" Vash asked Gun Graves  
  
"Yes, I did." Gun Graves said, "They were people who deserved to die. I was doing more of a public service when I killed them."  
  
"That's not for you to decide." Vash said, "They all deserved a chance!"  
  
Gun Graves only continued to smile, but this time he laughed.  
  
"What's so funny!" Wolfwood demanded  
  
"My master was right." Gun Graves laughed, "the great Vash the Stampede really is a pacifist. I still can't believe he's a brother to our greatest master, Millions Knives."  
  
"So, the rumors were true, you really are one of the Gung-Ho Guns." Wolfwood said  
  
"That's right, I am the 14th Gung-Ho Gun and I've come to kill Vash the Stampede. To make him suffer." He raised a cold finger at the red coated Vash but the gunman only sat staring back at him. "But before I do." Gun Graves said as he reached into his coat. He pulled out that same old tattered picture that had the boy and the girl on it. "Do you know these children?"  
  
Vash and Wolfwood looked at it confused but could only answer truthfully, "No."  
  
Gun Graves dropped the picture to the ground it fluttered all the way down to meet with the sand and dirt.  
  
"My quest for my past has been a waste." Gun Graves said clenching his fist, "but one won't be a waste, to kill Vash the Stampede."  
  
Vash stood up from his rocking chair, he stood up with such a great force that the chair rocked violently back as Vash made his request.  
  
"Please, let us fight in the desert." He pleaded  
  
Gun Graves nodded, "I'll agree. Is that the only request you have before you die?"  
  
"No," Wolfwood intervened, "I'm going to fight along with Vash."  
  
Gun Graves smirked, "Chapel the Evergreen really had wasted too much time on you."  
  
"Oh you'll pay for that!" Wolfwood snarled clenching his fists.  
  
"Shall we go into the desert?" Gun Graves asked  
  
Wolfwood thought of an interesting question, "What makes you think I won't shoot you in the back?"  
  
"You won't." Gun Graves said, "I have eyes in the back of my head."  
  
It was like any classic western story, the three of them headed out into the desert like two gunslingers going out into main street for a quick draw. Except this gunfight wasn't for any reasons that were so superficial as money or a woman. This one was an order that was handed down and like a soldier Gun Graves was going to follow it to the end.  
  
Back at the house, Meryl and Millie were watching the whole thing unfold even though they could only hear their voices faintly. They watched as all three headed out into the desert to do their battle. Their hearts only raced with the thought of who would come back.  
  
Tap. Tap.  
  
The sound was coming from the window, both Meryl and Millie looked down to find a cat sitting on the window sill with something in his mouth. Instinctually Millie felt that the cat wanted to be let in for some reason. Then again that was Millie in a nutshell, she was always the kindest to children, animals, and even strangers. She went to the door to let the cat in.  
  
"Don't open the door." Meryl ordered, "you heard Vash, we can't allow anyone in."  
  
"Oh, Meryl." Millie smiled, "It's only a cat."  
  
She opened the door and the cat came in, it pranced across the wooden floor and onto the kitchen table. It turned to face Millie and Meryl with whatever it had in its mouth. The entire situation seemed very odd to them since it happened just after Vash, Wolfwood and the stranger wandered off into the desert to do battle this cat suddenly appears with this thing in its mouth. Meryl stepped over to take the thing from its mouth. It felt thick, not like paper but thick like a photograph. The side that Meryl looked at was blank with all kinds of marks on it, dust, and fingerprints with ink spots. She turned it over and what she found shocked her right down to her foundations.  
  
Back at home where Meryl originally lived with her sister, mother and father there was a picture on the wall. The picture had an extra child in it, a boy. Meryl had often tried to ask who was that person but her parents never answered. For as long as Meryl asked the question, her parents never answered. It was as if the boy in that picture was some kind of dirty secret that the family never wanted to talk about. Eventually, Meryl's parents took down the picture so that she wouldn't ask about it anymore. When that happened, that was the time that Meryl went to work for the Bernardelli Insurance society. And just now it came to her from this cat.  
  
"Do you know who they are?" She asked the cat  
  
"Nyao." The cat meowed.  
  
"I do." A man's voice came from the hallway.  
  
The attention of Meryl and Millie went right to the direction of the voice. There in the hallway they saw the brother of Vash the Stampede, Millions Knives. He stood half-naked wearing only a pair of jogging pants. He came into the kitchen and sat down at the table. He took in a deep breath as if he was trying to test the air in the room.  
  
"He's finally come." Knives said out loud, "the last of the Gung-Ho Guns."  
  
"Who is he?" Meryl demanded as she set the picture down on the table, "And what do you know about this?"  
  
Knives gestured to the table, "Please sit down."  
  
Millie and Meryl sat down as the cat jumped into Millie's lap and went fast asleep.  
  
"The man who has arrived at the doorstep." Knives began, "Is one of the Gung-Ho Guns, a group I started to try to make my brother suffer." He said it shaking his head in shame of what he did. "Gun Graves was actually a creation of my second in command, Legato Bluesummers. He went into a nearby graveyard and brother the body of that man to us to make into one of us. Though I never thought this would happen."  
  
The question was driving Meryl insane she had to understand it, "What does this have to do with me?" She demanded  
  
"That man out there is really called Brandon Strife, your brother."  
  
It shocked Meryl so suddenly as if a brick hit her from a high building. Suddenly everything made sense, why her parents wouldn't talk about that boy in the family portrait. Yet she kept running over the image in her mind of the man who had arrived at the doorstep. How could a man so cold and with the fires of hell burning in his eyes be his brother. Was what he had become such a dirty secret that the family would never talk about him? Or had he died in such a shameful way that her family wouldn't' talk about it.  
  
Meryl rose out of her seat, "I have to stop this."  
  
Knives reached out and grabbed Meryl's hand, she looked back with surprise, but then she felt angry at Knives.  
  
"Let go of me. I have to stop them." She squirmed.  
  
"You can't stop him." Knives said, "He's been conditioned to find Vash and kill him. He can't be reasoned with, he won't stop until he or Vash is dead."  
  
"So, you're saying I should give up!" Meryl shrieked at Knives with tears streaming down her face. She realized now that she'll either loose her love, Vash or her brother that had come back from the grave itself. The only thing that was running through her mind like a single track of a record was to stop this. Yet as she wept she saw Knives smile gently.  
  
"Why are you smiling!" Meryl demanded  
  
"You really don't know my brother, do you?" He asked, "If I know him right, he'll find a way to end this without killing Gun Graves, or rather Brandon. So I suggest that we wait."  
  
* * *  
  
Away from the little village in the great desert the three gunslingers met to do their battle. There was a small stretch of land that was like an oasis in the desert. There were rocks, trees, and grasses that covered several acres. Nobody knows how these small pieces of such fertile land would spring here on such a place as Gunsmoke but this would be the place where they would do the battle. They walked until Vash and Wolfwood stayed where they were and Gun Graves walked a few more steps and turned around. His eyes looked at Vash and Wolfwood equally.  
  
"I assume you have your weapons." Gun Graves said  
  
Vash took out his gun and Wolfwood showed off the gattling portion of his Cross-Punisher.  
  
"Let's begin." Gun Graves said as he took out his twin Cerberus guns. He allowed his arms to come down to his sides and he looked at both Vash and Wolfwood waiting for this gunfight to begin. He stared at both Vash and Wolfwood, back and forth he looked waiting for someone to make the first move. It was becoming like that of a Mexican stand-off. Gun Graves was going to have the first move. He raised his silver gun to Wolfwood, but he raised it so quickly that it looked more like a blur.  
  
Vash was the one who deflected it, he brought up his gun and shot at it sending the silver gun flying out of Gun Graves hand.  
  
"Run!" Vash shouted to Wolfwood.  
  
The two of them dashed for cover, Wolfwood behind one of the thick trees and Vash behind one of the larger rocks.  
  
"Bullet time." Gun Graves shouted, but this time the move didn't come. "Bullet time." He shouted in his mind again, but it didn't happen. What was going on? Then he remembered that he used up the necessary amounts of bodily fluids needed to do Bullet Time. Then it all made sense the fluids that he got from the Descartes gang was bad. He should have known from the way they felt when they entered. So he could only use the fluids that were still good. So, he had to fight them on their ground and with so much fluids gone, he had no other choice but to fight Vash and Wolfwood on their own terms.  
  
He reached down for his gun and he knew where they were hiding already. He brought up his other Cerberus gun and fired it at the old oak tree. The bullet penetrated the old tree and exited, but he heard no scream of pain. Then he saw a dash of gray and out sprung Wolfwood with his gattling end out and fired it at Gun Graves the Undying.  
  
He fired his bullets shouting, "You missed me!"  
  
The bullets penetrated Gun Graves, but he healed as quickly as the bullets passed through him like a small razor cut. This time he brought up his coffin and was going to fire a missile, out popped the target sights and he followed Wolfwood as he jumped from tree to tree. Then he thought about one thing, how many missiles to I have left? Only six, that should be enough.  
  
"Deathblow!" He shouted as he fired the first missile. It exploded sending fragments of grass, tree, branches, leaves and rocks into the air. Yet, Wolfwood still lived. The fact that Wolfwood, a mere human was dodging him made him angry he fired his remaining shots and still Wolfwood survived.  
  
"My turn!" Wolfwood shouted turning the Cross-Punisher around and firing his missile at Gun Graves. The rocket came down at him, even though Gun Graves didn't have the ability to use Bullet Time he could still move quickly. He dodged the first missile, then the second and then the third. Then he heard a click from the place that Wolfwood was firing his missiles.  
  
"Shit!" He shouted, "I'm out!"  
  
Gun Graves saw the opportunity. He jumped out into the clearing and fired his bullets to where Wolfwood was standing but that didn't do any effect.  
  
"Vash!" Wolfwood shouted  
  
Vash came out from behind the mound he was hiding from and fired all six shots from his gun. He fired them so quickly that they would sound like a single gunshot to the ears of a normal person. Yet, it didn't make any difference, Gun Graves used his coffin as a shield against his bullets. He in turn fired his Cerberus guns at Vash, the bullets only grazed Vash's cheeks. Then it was time to get back behind the hill. He felt Gun Graves coming for him; it was the ominous feeling of someone coming that anyone gets in such a hyperactive state. Vash gathered himself up and dashed for cover with Gun Graves coming up over the hill.  
  
"You can run out of bullets!" Gun Graves shouted, "But my Cerberus guns will never run out of bullets!"  
  
Vash and Wolfwood met in a heavy growth of trees. They whispered to each other.  
  
"This guy's too good." Wolfwood panted, "I've used up all of my missiles. And I'm pretty sure I'm running low on bulllets."  
  
"I know." Vash said as he reloaded his gun he held out his prosthetic arm and out came his little machine gun.  
  
"We have to kill him." Wolfwood said as he brought up his Cross-Punisher  
  
"No, I'm sure there's another way to do this."  
  
"There's no time for that childish bullshit, Vash!" Wolfwood tried to keep his voice down, "We've got a psycho on our hands and we've got to kill him or he'll kill us. It's as simple as that."  
  
"I know, but there has to be another way."  
  
Vash kept running over what can be done in his mind. The pressure was intense, it was worse than trying to figure out an answer on a final test. Vash sweated even more in his red duster. In the dense growth he took off his duster and laid it in the soft dirt. He needed a way to bring Gun Graves down to a crawl. All he and Wolfwood could manage to do was run from him and eventually they'll both run out of bullets and that'll put Gun Graves at the advantage.  
  
Suddenly the neurons snapped and that was the answer. Gun Graves Cerberus guns, those are his weakness. He puts too much trust in them, then again he has good reason too since he said that they can never run out of bullets. It seemed so simple that Vash had to smile.  
  
"You've got something up your sleeve." Wolfwood smiled  
  
"Yeah." Vash nodded, "I need you to distract him."  
  
"Ok, just stay alive."  
  
Vash dashed out from the undergrowth and dashed from tree to tree and rock to rock making sure that he didn't run into Gun Graves long the way. He had his guns ready to fire and he was sure that the plan was going to work. At last Vash came to a small grassy knoll, he peered over its edge. There was Gun Graves moving towards that undergrowth that he and Wolfwood were hiding. He was looking at Gun Graves's back, then he heard Wolfwood's distraction.  
  
"I'm over here!" He shouted. Gun Graves turned to his left. It was time, Vash brought about his gun and aimed it carefully, there was no time to aim right he had to shoot from the hip. He fired the first bullet and it missed but thanks to the double action of his gun he fired again and this time the bullet hit. It hit the Cerberus gun right in the center of its cross that ran down its side. Vash crawled behind the knoll again and heard the outrage from Gun Graves.  
  
"You shot my gun goddamnit!" Gun Graves shouted as he thirsted his gun to the ground. This fight had grown infuriating to him, he thought that with all the rumors that Vash was simply a wimp would give him an advantage and that this fight would be over quicker. There was never any mention of how devious Vash truly was. He didn't care where there were now because it was time to pull out the big guns on these men. He opened up his coffin and reached into another secret pouch and he pulled out three bullets. Each of them looked like gems shaped into bullets, one was green, another was blue, and the last was yellow. These bullets were part of a very ruthless attack that Gun Graves was going to use. It was called, "Graveyard Finisher".  
  
He fiddled with his gun until a part of it opened up. A small slot opened up along the cross where the bullet chamber would be. The first bullet he loaded was the yellow one. This one would only be a demonstration of who they were messing with.  
  
"Alright, Vash the Stampede!" Gun Graves called out, "Look up to the sky, I'm going to show you something!"  
  
Gun Graves pointed the gun up to the sky and pulled the trigger. The gun began to jerk backwards like the feeling of a shotgun when its fired. But this time the damage would be very catastrophic. Vash and Wolfwood looked up to the sky as they heard a great bang from where Gun Graves stood. In the sky they watched as an enormous flash of yellow light blackened out the sky of its blue color to replace it with that yellow hue. As it exploded Vash and Wolfwood knew that Gun Graves had something bigger this whole time and the only thing that could counter that was the very thing that put the hole in the fifth moon, the Angel Arm. Vash knew this all too well and so did Wolfwood.  
  
Gun Graves opened up that part again in his gun and loaded the blue one. This time he aimed it at the place where he knew Vash and Wolfwood were hiding.  
  
"Get ready to die!" Gun Graves shouted as he was about to pull the trigger  
  
As he did Vash jumped out from behind the grassy knoll and pulled out his silver gun. This time the gun opened up to reveal that secret part above the barrel. It spun with a great white light that encircled everything. Gun Graves was taken aback by what he was watching, it was like staring into the sun. Then he was brought back by the fact that Vash was wielding this weapon. He watched as his arm and the gun merged into one weapon, an enormous gray, and scaly cannon. Vash aimed it at Gun Graves as he pulled the trigger.  
  
Wolfwood watched and then felt a great explosion that sent the trees, the rocks and the grass flying and burning from the intense heat. The only thing that Wolfwood's instincts told him to do was to duck and cover. As soon as the explosion subsided he then felt a great gust of wind that knocked him from where he was covering to a place nearly a yar away from the actual blast sight. He immediately understood the gravity of what had happened in the cities of July and Augusta where these very same disasters happened. He got to his knees and felt dirt and sand in his mouth. He spat it out and looked to the horizon and within a shallow crater were Vash the Stampede and Gun Graves the Undying. He tried to see what was going to happen next. He knew that Vash had more bullets and Gun Graves wasn't going to run out of them.  
  
Vash seemed very tired indeed from Wolfwood's point of view. His arm had returned to its normal shape and scale. He then raised both gun arms to Gun Graves and fired. The Silver Cerberus gun fell out of Gun Graves hand like a sword of a fallen crusader. Wolfwood kept count, he had four bullets left. The next two Vash used on Gun Graves legs, then the next two for his shoulders. He then watched as Vash loaded one bullet into the gun and aimed it right at Gun Grave's face. He heard him panting, then again in such a desolate place that was the only thing he could hear in the silent heat.  
  
Vash the Stampede looked down at Gun Graves, whose clothes were torn from the explosions both of them inflicted. He held his gun only a few inches away from Gun Graves face as he panted. Using the Angel Arm always took so much out of Vash, it was like running the mile on an empty stomach. Gun Graves looked pitiful then Vash only uttered one phrase that he shouted out into the desert.  
  
"I will not kill again!"  
  
Epilogue:  
  
Dear Mother and Father,  
  
I know it has been several months since I've written a single letter but there has been something that has come up that I wanted to write to you about. Do you remember the family portrait that was in the family room? The one that had my sister, Rem, another boy, and myself in it? I must have asked over a hundred times who that boy was, but you never told me who it was in the first place. Until eventually when I became an adult you put the picture away like it was a dirty secret. Recently I have met the man who turned out to be that boy in the picture. I've found out that his real name is Brandon Strife, though you might remember that he died away from home. I know that it may be hard for you to believe but he's still alive. Through the craft and lost technology of a group calling themselves The Gung-Ho Guns, Brandon was brought back to life and renamed the 14th Gung-Ho Gun, Gun Graves the Undying.  
  
If you had only told me he was dead none of this would have been so hard for me to except, but it was buried. Now, the past has come back to me because I was with the man known as Vash the Stampede. Its true that Brandon was conditioned to find Vash the Stampede and to kill him. Though Vash and his best friend Nicholas D. Wolfwood had proven themselves to be better than him in both heart and skill. Thanks to the kindness of Vash the Stampede Brandon was spared and brought here to heal. Though the skills of Vash and his brother Knives Brandon had recovered his lost memories. Now we all live together in this small village a few ilses away from L and R town.  
  
As it turns out, Brandon has been seeing a girl that I had met once before, a girl named Stephanie Bowstock, daughter to the rich Mr. Bowstock. Not only that but they were traveling with someone else I had met once. Do you remember me telling you about Marshall Maryanne? Well apparently Marshall Maryanne has fallen head-over-heels for Vash's brother Knives. At first I couldn't understand, but then again I never admitted to myself that I had loved Vash the Stampede myself.  
  
I want you to know that I'm not angry for keeping this secret from me, because now I have time to catch up with my brother, Brandon Strife.  
  
Sincerely, your daughter,  
  
Meryl Strife. 


End file.
